HotStickySweet
by britbojangles
Summary: Kurt is a stripper trying to make it to New York and Blaine is a pharmacist trying to get over his ex husband. The two meet when Santana hires Kurt to dance for Blaine's birthday. Kurt leaves such an impression that Blaine accidentally tells his ex that the dancer is his boyfriend. Will Kurt help Blaine save face or will he keep his eyes on his goal of getting to New York? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: You all spoke. Here it is, by popular demand.**

**Warning: Age difference. Kurt is 18 and Blaine is 29. I know Blaine shouldn't have gray hair at this point, but I have a lady boner for Blaine with a little gray. And I love the idea of experienced!Shy!Blaine and inexperienced!outgoing!Kurt. ;)**

* * *

"Guys, come on. This isn't a good idea. Let's just go. You had your fun, let's just go. Please!" Blaine begged. It was his 29th birthday and the girls weren't letting up. _I have work in the morning for gosh sakes._

Santana spun around on her heel and grinned at him. It wasn't a normal grin, it was sneaky and mischievous. "Come on, Blainey-boy. You never get out. We just wanna show you a good time." She slurred. Blaine's shoulders slumped and he sighed in defeat. He'd lost the battle before it started.

Quinn grabbed his hand and dragged him down the dimly lit street. "Besides, we were invited. It'll be fun." She purred. Blaine began to wonder if he liked Quinn better when she was Bible thumping. She'd turned into a bit of a wild child since her parents disowned after she came out.

The girls began to run towards the seedy club that they'd been handed a flyer for. Blaine didn't want to go in there. Who knew what kind of people would be inside. "I just don't think it's a good idea." He huffed as he was dragged down the street. "I mean, what do you know about the guys that handed you that card? They could be murderers or rapists."

"Look Blanderson, all I need to know is the guy that handed me that card was smoking and he had a bad bitch with him. I wants to get my eye candy on, so move it." His friend barked. There was more fear of Santana in his body than there was fear of the possible rapist or murderer that could be waiting for him.

The young pharmacist–yes, he pushed pills for a living- sighed and allowed himself to be dragged to the growing line. They made their way to the back and waited patiently. "Xcelerate. What kind of name is that? And why are there only girls in this line? Santana," he whined, "I don't want to be here. You guys go in, I'll just see you two at home."

Quinn pouted. "Come on, Curly, it'll be fun. Besides, the guys that gave us the flyer said there were even guys here for you. It'll be fun." Blaine was a sucker for the blonde's pout. Her eyes looked so sad and she always looked to be on the verge of tears. "Please."

"Uggg..fine! I'll go in for you guys, but I'm not watching. We're sitting in the back and I'm playing on my phone until you guys are done creaming yourselves over slutty dancers with no moral code." The girls nodded in unison; a sign that they'd accepted Blaine's terms.

The line moved slowly until the trio was at the front. The bouncer looked them up and down before moving the velvet rope. _He didn't even check our ids. This is obviously a very unprofessional establishment._

The lighting in the club was of low quality. Blaine could barely see where he was walking. As he pushed through the crowd of middle aged women and bulky men, Blaine regretted his decision. They were like animals. The women were running around and laughing loudly while the men catcalled at the dancers on stage. One even stopped to ask if he was a performer. The young man blushed profusely and informed that he was not. He then proceeded to beg his friends to let him ditch. No such luck.

The trio found a table near the back, in a relatively barren section of the club, and sat down. "Come on, guys. It's my birthday. I think I'll enjoy being at home more than I'll enjoy being here." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"No you won't. You'll sit around sulking about Jeremiah. That's why we brought you out tonight. We hate seeing you sulk most of the time, but it kills us to see you sulk on your birthday. So, enjoy yourself. There should be plenty of man candy here to hold your attention; right Santana?"

The Latina nodded absently. Something had caught her attention. "Yeah. Right. Hey, I'm going to go get us some drinks. I'll be right back." She announced; seemingly out of the blue. Quinn and Blaine exchanged looks and then watched their friend walk away.

* * *

Santana pushed her way through the crowd until she was backstage. It was almost as grody as the front of the club was. _Ewww._ She pushed the thought aside, however. She had to find the dancer she'd just seen peer from behind the curtains. Blaine was one of her best friends in the world and she wanted him to enjoy himself. She knew that only the doe eyed angel with the pale skin and chestnut hair could make that happen. So, she searched.

"What are you doing back here?" She heard someone shriek. She turned around to meet a preppy looking brunette in a school girl get up. She wore a tiny apron over her outfit and a name tag that read 'Raven'. _Fake name._

"I'm looking for someone." Santana offered. She was nonchalant about being caught and she made it known. A midget waitress wasn't going to distract her from her mission.

"But you can't be back here. It's completely unprofessional for you to be back here. You have to leave!" 'Raven' insisted.

"Listen, midget, I don't know how these things work, I'm obviously too classy to have insider knowledge like you do, but I've got cash and I want a man to dance for my friend." The girl, 'Raven', visibly shrank. She looked put off by Santana's implications that she wasn't classy.

"Ummm….well, I'll take you to Will. He can help you." The girl's eyes didn't meet Santana, but she walked the Latina further back stage none the less.

* * *

Rachel hated her job. Waitressing in a filthy strip club in the middle of Ohio wasn't what she'd expected for her life. After the accident that took the lives of both of her father's, Rachel was left with only her best friend; who'd also lost a parent in the accident.

The day that she realized that she wasn't going to take New York by storm was the day she realized that she couldn't keep living off Kurt and the life insurance check he received every month. It was also the day she'd gone out and gotten the first job she could; as a cashier in a fast food restaurant. Apparently, mothers with children hung around their ankles didn't like being preached to about the wonders of Veganism. Rachel lost her job a week later.

After a few days of crying on the couch, Kurt approached Rachel with an offer. "It's not ideal, but it'll get us to New York." Rachel's ears perked. New York was the only thing she had to hold on to.

Her friend explained how he'd gotten his job and what he did. Rachel gasped at the thought. Kurt was a dancer. It was so…not Kurt. When he explained that he didn't have to touch anyone and no one got to touch him, Rachel relaxed a bit. "But, I don't think I can do that, Kurt; born performer or not."

"That's the beauty of it. They don't need any women dancers right now. They do, however, need gorgeous women waitresses right now. Guys and girls come to watch the shows, so they like to have all types of nice things for them to look at; ya know." Kurt explained. Rachel was still apprehensive. She didn't know the first thing about waiting tables.

"Listen, all you have to do is serve drinks to a bunch of drunk, horny housewives and motorcycle guys. They'll tip you and you'll come home. Then, we'll pay bills and put money aside to get out of this place. Come on, it's what all of our dads would have wanted. I mean, they wouldn't have wanted us to do it this way, but they always supported our dreams to go to New York. They wouldn't want us to stay here."

It was true. Burt Hummel and Hiram and LeRoy Berry always supported the HummelBerry –as the three parents called them- dreams to go to The Big Apple. After much pestering, Rachel relented. She went to the club to fill out an application and she started that evening. She was given a week's worth of previously unworn, skimpy outfits and a new name; Raven. She hated being Raven. She hated the way some of the customers leered at her. _Guys aren't as bad as some of the ladies in here. I'm not a piece of meat._

As with any other night, the girl shook off the degrading feeling that sat in her stomach, and walked backstage. She needed to get away. So, she left her tables in the capable hands of another server, 'Nikia', and made her exit. She thought she was in the clear until saw that she saw someone in front of her; a patron. It was her duty, as a member of the wait staff, to keep customers where the belonged, in the front of the club. No one was allowed back stage unless invited. She was certain that this person had no invitation. So, she spoke.

The woman was irritable and stand offish. She explained that she wanted to buy a dance for a friend. Rachel was all ears. If she took him customer to Will, then she'd get a cut of the fee that the dancer and the club would receive. She was more than happy to take the customer to Will.

The walked in a relative silence to the manager's office. "Do you know which performer you want?" Rachel asked, quietly.

"I saw one, but I need to know if they're willing to dance for another dude." The customer replied. Rachel had a quick reply for this response.

"This club is very innovative. Our guys and dolls are willing to dance for guys and dolls." Rachel wore a stage smile that earned her from an eye roll from the customer.

"Whatever, Liza. Anyways, back to your question, I don't know his name, but he was kind of tall and skinny. He was also really white. He kind of looked like a vampire." Rachel stopped walking. Tall. Skinny. Pale as a sheet. _This girl wants Kurt. What kind of friend am I? I'm about to pimp out my friend for a few extra dollars to put in our New York jar._ Rachel shook the thought away. Kurt would do it to her if the tables were turned. New York was that important.

"Well, this is Will's office. I'll go in and tell him what you want." Rachel quickly slipped through the door and left the girl standing in the hallway.

"Will, may I speak with you?" She asked in her most innocent tone. Will was a middle aged business man with an eye for sexually harassing his employees. The less likely an encounter could perceived as sexual, the less likely it was to become sexual.

"What, Raven? Can't you see I'm busy?" The man was playing with his phone. Rachel rolled her eyes. She hated her job.

"There's a woman outside that wants Kur-Kalvin to dance for her friend. She looks like she's willing to pay a decent amount." Rachel watched as the manager set his phone down. She waited for him to reply, but he didn't. He simply stared at her.

"Well…are you going to let her in or are you going to stand there and waste my damn time?" Rachel jumped at the outburst and turned to open the door. The less time she had to spend in the office with him, the better.

* * *

Santana waited impatiently in the hallway while 'Raven' spoke with her boss. _Really, because who needs that much time to take my damn money? _Eventually, the office door opened and Santana was let in. She was greeted by a smug looking business man sat behind a desk. "Come in, come in."

Santana rolled her eyes, her patience already worn thin, and walked into the room. Raven excused herself and walked out at that moment. "So, you wanted to-"

"Listen, all I want to do is throw some change around so one of ya' boys will work my friend right. Give me a price, I'll pay it, then I'm gone."

The man sat back and grinned at the woman. She already hated his grin. It's just so smug. I should smack that grin off his face. "Raven told me you have your eyes on Kalvin. He's one of our top earners. It'll cost you a pretty penny."

"Listen," patience was no longer a word in her vocabulary, "I asked you to name a price. My boy is worth it." Will nodded and shot out a number. After the initial shock wore off, the man spoke. Santana simply pulled out her wallet. Her daddy was a dentist and he sent her money from time to time. She could live without a new Gucci bag if I made Blaine smile.

Will's eyes bugged out at the sight of Santana counting notes. "Now, I think you're running game on me and that your guy's lap dance probably isn't worth this much. But, I'm going to trust you. I'm going to trust that your dancer is going to blow my boy's mind and I'm going to trust that I won't have to come back here and kick your other foot into that grave. Got it?" The man nodded and recounted the money on his desk.

Santana turned to leave but was called back. "What's your friend's name. Ya know, so I can tell my guy."

"Blaine." She replied before she made her way back to the front.

* * *

Blaine sat at the table staring at his phone. Just after Santana left, he got an email from Jeremiah.

_Hey B,_

_Just wanted to see how you're doing. I'm glad we decided to stay friends after the divorce because I need someone to gush to. I think I've met someone. He's amazing; almost as amazing as Paris itself. I hope you're doing well. _

_TTYL, _

_Jer._

Blaine huffed. Why had Jeremiah even bothered to contact him? The young man grabbed the first server he saw. "Anything, give me anything." The girl smiled and walked away. That's when he noticed Santana coming back; a pleasant smile perched on her lips. "Where were you?" He asked as he slid his phone in his pocket.

The girl purposely ignored his question in favor of whispering in Quinn's ear. The smile that slowly formed on the blonde's lips let him know they were up to something. "Blaine, why don't we move closer?" She asked. The pharmacist cocked his head to the side. Why do they want to do something like that?

"I don't think-"

Santana cut him off. "Come on. Don't make me drag you." Her threat shook him. He may have been strong, but his friend was stronger; much stronger. Reluctantly, the young man let the girls drag him to towards the stage. There was a young woman working a pole to 'When I Grow Up' by the Pussycat Dolls. It felt so cliché.

"Guys, I don't want to watch this girl shake her money maker." The young man complained. He pulled his glasses off and wiped the fog away. There was a large group that had gathered around the stage and the abundance of bodies made the room heat up. Not my ideal situation. He thought.

The song ended and the dancer grabbed her top before exiting the stage. "And that was Everyone's favorite naughty dancer, Lucy Caboosey. Next up…." The MC stopped speaking to the audience and held a hand over the microphone. After a quick conversation with someone behind him, he continued, "for your viewing pleasure, please welcome, Kalvin Climbs." Men and women alike started shouting and cheering at the stage. Blaine was at a loss. He'd never been to an establishment of such but he knew a crowd favorite when he heard one. The audience let it be known who their favorite was.

The velvet curtain began to raise and Blaine was front and center for a pair of dress shoes. Perched atop those shoes was a pair of the most stunning legs the pharmacist had ever seen. The curtain continued to rise and, Blaine finally saw what the audience was excited about. There, as if he'd walked out of a dream, stood a man with sultry look on his face and a finely cut suit that clung to his body. "Heeyyyyyyy." The man's voice came out high pitched and playful. The audience ate it up. they all shouted and hooted in response. "We're gonna do something different today." Again, shouts and hollers sounded through the smoky room.

Blaine watched as the man strutted back and forth across the stage. He salivated at the way the pants outfit clung to the man's curves. _He is pretty attractive and he's just….walking around begging to be stared at. It wouldn't hurt to look. Everyone else is._

"So, a little kitty told me that there's a birthday boy in the room." The sound of Santana and Quinn's shouts could be heard over those of the other patrons. _They wouldn't._ "And that same little kitty told me that he likes when boys dance for him." The men, in particular, went wild. Blaine scowled at his friends because they had. "So…I'd like this birthday boy to come up on stage, because I'd love to dance for him."

Through the eruption of cheers, Santana and Quinn began to shout and point. "HE'S RIGHT HERE! HE'S RIGHT HERE!" The girls chimed in unison. Blaine shrank in his seat when the dancer's eyes landed on him. Gosh, he's beautiful but, no. I can't. I'm not that kinda guy. He quickly held up his hands and shook them along with his head.

"No. NO. I'm not…I can't" He said when he had the performer's attention. The performer's eyes widened and he poked his bottom lip out. He looked young; too young.

"Awww….he doesn't want me to dance for him." The dancer pouted. The boos were deafening.

"Asshole, you made him sad." Someone shouted. Blaine looked towards his friends for confirmation that someone indeed had just called him an asshole for turning down a dance with a stripper. Santana didn't notice his gaze because she was trying to drag him out of his seat.

"I paid for this, Anderson, so get up there and let that boy do whatever he wants to you." She grunted while trying to lift his dead weight.

Quinn's approach was far less aggressive. "Oh, Blaine, it's just one dance. He's not going to hurt you and it'll be good for you to let loose for a bit. You're so rigid since Jeremiah left." That caught his attention. What was Jeremiah doing at that moment? _He's probably poking around inside some young French boy. _

Blaine stood of his own volition. If Jeremiah could go out and have fun, then so could he. The birthday man –I'm not a boy anymore- smoothed away the imaginary wrinkles in his slacks and adjusted his glasses. He then began the shameful walk towards the stage.

* * *

Kurt's eyes lit up when he saw the man walk towards the stage. The man was good looking and more put together than most of the guys that frequented the club to see him. He was a little shorter than the dancer but his arms were more defined. _I wonder if he's got abs. I love abs. Abs are-_

The thought was cut off when Kurt realized how close the man was to the stage. He waved him forward and then patted the chair that had been carried on stage by a stage hand. "Come on, I don't bite." He said into the microphone. "Unless you want me to." As usual, the crowd applauded. They ate his implied innocence up.

The room went silent as Blaine stepped onto the stage. The man looked childlike with his wide eyes and too short pants. From the top up, it was a different story. There was a tiny hint of gray that streaked through the man's gelled hair and his dress shirt clung to him in all the right places. Kurt pointed to the seat again and the man sat down. "So, cutie, what's your name?" He held the microphone to the man's lips and waited for a response.

"B-Blaine." _I like that name._

"Well, B-Blaine, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself. How old are you today?" He purred. Two girls in the front row went crazy. Kurt could only suffice that they were the friends that purchased the dance.

"Ummm…29." Blaine responded. His voice was timid but clear.

Kurt cocked his hip to the side and leaned an elbow on the back of the chair. He knew he was crowding Blaine's space, but that was part of his job. He got paid to crowd space. " What do you do for a living?" He purred.

"I'm a…um…pharmacist." Kurt looked towards the DJ booth and Artie played the opening line of a song that suited Blaine's answer. Artie was a music connoisseur and he had a song or a set of lyrics for every occasion.

_I'm your pusher…_

The crowd, once again, went crazy. Most of them probably hadn't heard the song in years. Kurt looked back to Blaine when the music stopped. "Well, Mr. Pharmacist, I don't think you're going to need any Viagra tonight, because I'm going to be all the drug you need." Kurt passed the microphone to a stage hand and queued the music.

With quick strides, the performer walked to the front of the chair and stared down at his customer. _He's in for it. He'll be begging me for more. _Kurt swayed along with the opening bars of the song.

_Love is like a bomb, baby, come on get it on_

_Liven' like a lover with a radar phone_

He dropped his hips from side to side and made his belly dance. Usually, the performer danced with his eyes closed –he liked to feel the music-but something told him to open them. When he did, he saw the swift movement of a tiny pink tongue gliding across Blaine's lips. He liked what he saw.

Kurt continued to rub his hands across the tailored suit through the remnants of the opening lines. When the chorus hit, the performer dropped down into an unexpected split.

_Take a bottle, shake it up_

_Break the bubble, break it up_

* * *

Blaine watched the performer drop down into a split in awe. He'd never seen a man, woman, or child perfect the move in such a way. From his spot on the ground, the dancer threw his leg over until he was rolled onto all fours. And he was crawling and…oh man. _He's going to eat me alive._

Kalvin crawled to the chair but stopped right in front of Blaine's legs. The dancer sat up on his knees and ran his hands along Blaine's thighs. They shook on contact. Blaine hadn't been touched in so long. He'd missed it. Kalvin slid his hands between the trembling thighs. Slowly, he parted them until there was just enough space for him to sit between them.

Just as quickly as they came, the hands were gone. Blaine looked down and noticed that the performer was rubbing his hands –_I bet their soft-_ along the line of buttons on the blazer he was wearing. Slowly –so slowly- he popped the buttons. Once they were all popped, Kalvin turned away to shoot a sultry look at the audience, and then shouldered off the jacket. Blaine saw a black blur of fabric fly off stage but he didn't see where. His attention was on the man slithering up his body. Just as languidly as he'd dropped to the floor, the man was sliding up his body. _He's like a snake._

Kalvin grabbed the back of the chair and hopped onto Blaine's lap; legs straddling the customer's thighs.

_I'm hot, sticky, sweet_

_From my head to my feet, yeah_

Breathe control was key. If Blaine could control his breathing, then he could get through the performance without cumming on himself or passing out. Breathe control wasn't an option, however, once Kurt started to grind in his lap. Each thrust of the dancer's hips timed perfectly with the music. It was delicious.

Without a thought, Blaine lifted his hands to Kalvin's waist. "Uhhh…uhhh. No touching." The pale man purred into the pharmacist's ear. Blaine's hands retracted immediately and fell to his side. Kalvin smiled down at him but didn't stop moving. Instead, along with the tempo of the song, his gyrations increased. Kalvin's hands slid up and down Blaine's chest before moving to touch his own. The boy played with the buttons on the shirt for a moment before he began to open them; one at a time.

_You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little_

_Tease a little more_

_Easy operator come a knockin' on my door_

The dancer shouldered the shirt and Blaine was met with the most beautiful expanse of pale skin he'd ever seen. Kalvin was so beautiful. His chest was lightly toned but not too muscular. His nipples were strawberry pink and they looked absolutely scrumptious. Blaine never wanted to run his tongue across a bare chest more than he wanted to at that moment.

Blaine's head lulled backwards a bit and he was suddenly face to face with the dancer. He'd been very observant of the performer's body; so much so that he'd neglected to realize how beautiful the man's face was. His lips were a bubble gum shade of pink and plump. They were made for kissing. His nose was buttoned with a slight upturn. It was made to be kissed. But his eyes, Kalvin's eyes were an unusual mix of greens, blues, grays, and golds that Blaine had never seen before. Jeremiah had beautiful eyes, but there wasn't an adjective that would do Kalvin's eyes justice. For a moment, Blaine felt like he was looking into the sun; so much so that he had to look away.

Then it was gone. The weight in his lap, the hands on his body, it was all gone. Half bare, Kalvin was standing in front of him, swaying to the beat. Blaine knew the song and the climax was coming. It was so close to being over and dare he say, he was disappointed.

_Take a bottle, shake it up_

_Break the bubble, break it up_

_Pour some sugar on me_

_Oooh, in the name of love_

_Pour some sugar on me_

_C'mon fire me up_

Kurt ripped his pants off to reveal a pair of bright orange boy shorts. The pants flew off stage and Kalvin was on him again. This time, however, he wasn't facing Blaine. He faced the audience. Kurt bounced around in Blaine's lap in a way that drove the man wild. He shimmied and swayed along with the music until it died down.

Then, once again, the feeling was gone. The music stopped and Kurt stood up. The dancer took a bow, something Blaine hadn't anticipated. He looked like an actual performer and not just a dancer at a club.

His senses came back quickly, for the first time since he'd walked on stage, Blaine noticed the audience and, more specifically, he noticed the tightness of his pants. A blush crept up his next. _Really, really?_ In a fit of embarrassment, Blaine darted off stage. Not before hearing Santana shout something that sounded like 'Don't be a bitch, Anderson. Take it off'. He was mortified.

* * *

Rachel stood just behind the curtain with Kurt's clothes in her hands. She'd grabbed them all as he tossed them off for his routine. Once the curtain was down, she began to make her way to clean up from the show. There wasn't much to do. She simply had to remove the chair and mop up any sweat.

On her way, she noticed the customer hustle past her. "There are bathrooms in the hall if you need to…ya know." The man stopped in his tracks and turned to her. His blush intensified and he scurried away. _How the hell does Kurt do that to them? My little baby penguin._ The girl shrugged and continued on her way. There was no use thinking about it; she had before and she never found an answer.

* * *

"We're freaking leaving. I'm not staying here. I can't believe you guys did that to me." Blaine shouted fifteen minutes later when he made his way back to their table. The girls didn't need to know that he'd spent a bit of time releasing himself in the restroom to the thought of the long legs and full lips that he'd just had sat in his lap.

"Oh….don't be mad. We just wanted you to have a good time." Santana whined. Her pleas to stay fell on deaf ears. Blaine advised the girls that he'd driven and that he'd leave them if they didn't follow him. The girls complied immediately.

* * *

Weeks went by and Kurt didn't think about Blaine once. He was too busy trying to make money. A debt collector had contacted him a few days after that particular night and needed money to settle one of his father's old debts. He'd spent a majority of his savings trying to save the deceased man's credit. So, he was back at square one.

If it wasn't for the fact that he didn't want to dance when he got to New York, he would have quit school. Cosmetology wasn't the most lucrative career, but it paid bills. It also didn't require taking his clothes off. So, Monday mornings through Friday mornings, he went to class and Sunday through Sunday, he worked at the club. It didn't help, however. It was hard to replace years of savings in a few weeks. He was stuck.

Rachel already had her half of the money but, it seemed that he was going to need a miracle to get his half. He was determined to do it, however. He didn't have much time left in college, so he could work more once he finished. There was no way he was staying in Lima past the end of the year. _That's 4 months. I'll bust my ass and we'll be out of here. We're getting out of Ohio. _

* * *

"No, Mr. Jenkins, this is a blood pressure medication. It won't give you an erection." Blaine sighed. Mr. Jenkins was a regular customer at the Lima General Pharmacy and they had the same conversation every time the man visited. Quinn, his relief pharmacist, thought it was funny. Blaine thought it was annoying.

"Now, hol' on youngin', what if I want one? I mean, I'm 67 year ol'. My body don't work like it used to." Blaine rubbed a tired hand over his face. Once Mr. Jenkins stared, he didn't stop.

"If you're concerned with….an erection," he whispered the last part as if the word alone would cause him to be smited, "then you should speak with your physician. This medication is strictly for blood pressure."

"What if I don' take it? Ya' figure I can get me one of them erections then? Ya know, all the blood can jus' flow there and it'll swell up. Ya figure that'll work?" Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Mr, Jen-"

"Blaine, you have a phone call." Quinn interrupted. She grabbed the medication from her peer and explained the uses to the customer. Blaine shot her a grateful look and went back to his work station. He picked up his work phone and prayed for a call long enough to prevent another interaction with Mr. Jenkins.

"Blaine Anderson speaking." He chirped into the phone. Prescriptions were backing up, so he did his best to check them while he talked.

"Blaine, hey, it's Jeremiah." The pharmacist blanched and dropped the pill bottle onto the ground.

"Umm…Jeremiah. Hey. To what do I owe the honor?" He tried to keep his voice as even as possible. He was going to kill whatever technician answered the phone and didn't forewarn him that it was Jeremiah calling.

"Well, I've got some big news. I'm coming back to the States." Blaine's heart swelled. Jeremiah was coming back and they could give it another try. He'd regretted their divorce more than he regretted anything else in his life. He should have fought harder. He should have been a better husband. He shouldn't have made Jeremiah feel like the only option was to leave.

"Jer, that's great. I can't wait to see you. Maybe we could have dinner or something. It'll be like old times." He gushed.

"That sounds great. It'll be a great opportunity for you to meet Seb." For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

"Who's Seb?" Blaine asked hesitantly. He was sure he was opening his own can of worms.

"Remember that French boy I told you about, Sebastian?" _Oh no._ "Well, we've been getting close over the past few months and," _dear God, no_, "he's the one. I think about him when we're apart and I can't get enough of him when we're together." Blaine's head lulled backwards._ Please don't. Please don't say what I think you're going to say._ "So, I proposed….and he said yes. We're coming State side to get married."

Bombs exploded in front of Blaine's eyes. If he was in a cartoon, there would be steam blowing out of his ears. "I'm so…..yeah. Whoa. Married. We've only been divorced for a year. Are you sure you guys are ready to get married?" _Please say no._

"Blaine, I've never felt like this about anyone. Ever." And damn, if that wasn't a blow to Blaine's pride. "Besides, I'm sure you've got a guy that you've been hiding away all this time. I'll finally get a chance to meet him." _What?_

"Uhhh…"

"Come on, Blaine. We said we'd stay friends."

"Yeah." Blaine fumbled around with a few print outs and switched screens on his computer. When he looked up from the monitor, he saw Quinn staring at him intently. Apparently, she'd gotten rid of Mr. Jenkins. "Ummm…yeah, I've got a guy. He's um…." He waved his hand at her as if to ask for help.

"Tall, tall." She whispered. Blaine tossed her a thumbs up.

"Ummm…yeah. He's tall and….lean. Yeah, he's tall and lean and….ummm…blue eyes. Brown hair. He's so sweet. He's like the best guy I've ever met." Blaine tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew Jeremiah saw right through it. He was never a good liar.

"Sounds like it." Jeremiah's tone was skeptical.

"Yeah. He's got full lips and he's a great dancer. His body is mesmerizing." Quinn scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. Blaine's description reminded her of someone.

"Great, Blaine. I'm so happy for you. What's his name?"

"Kalvin." It came out so quickly that Blaine didn't have time to stop it. His hand flew over his mouth and his eyes bugged out. He'd just told his ex-husband that his new boyfriend was the buy that'd danced in his lap a few weeks prior. _Crap._

"Sounds great. Well, we'll be there in a week. I can't wait to see you and I really can't wait to meet Kalvin."

"Urrr…yeah. Bye." Blaine hung up the phone abruptly. "Crap. Crap. Crap."

Quinn snickered. "You realize that you just told your ex-husband that your new boyfriend is the-"

"-stripper from a few weeks ago? Yeah, I know." Blaine finished.

"What are you going to do?" She asked. The pharmacy was quiet and most of the technicians were on lunch. It was just the two of them.

"I reckon I have two options: I can call and tell Jeremiah that I lied. That would lead to an embarrassing situation between he and I; as well as his fiancé. Or, I can try to find Kalvin and see if he'll help me out."

"You're going to try to find Kalvin aren't you?"

"You bet your buckets I am." Blaine replied. He had to find Kalvin. There was no way he was going to look like a fool in front of Jeremiah and Seb. The name felt like poison on his tongue. Yes, he was going to find Kalvin; he had to. "Tell Satan that we're going back to Xcelerate tonight."

Quinn jumped up and down with excitement. Apparently she'd met a waitress at the club that peeked her interest. Blaine was kind of happy for her. At least she didn't have to deal with an ex and the ex's new. He was going to be fine, however. All he had to do was find the dancer that he'd described. He'd ask for his help and maybe flash a little cash. _That works with strippers, right?_

* * *

**A/N: Is it worth continuing. Lyrics are from 'Grindin' - Clipse and "Pour Some Sugar On Me" -Def Leppard**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: You guys are amazing. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts. Here's Chapter dos. Enjoy!**

**Twitter: BritBojangles**

**Every chapter, I'll have a song you can listen to with the chapter (Recent executive decision), last chapter was 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' –Def Leppard. This chapter's is 'Welcome To The Jungle' –Guns n Roses. Enjoy : )**

* * *

Kurt hummed 'Over The Rainbow' as he dried the last dish. That's where he wanted to be; over the rainbow. Instead, he was standing in the kitchen of his childhood home, dreaming. He was a dreamer, but his dream seemed more like a distant reality as time passed.

Rachel walked in just as he finished drying the last plate and helped him put the dishes in their proper places. "What time do you have to be at the club tonight?" She asked. It was one of her rare nights off and Kurt knew that she just wanted to know how long she had until she was alone. The two nineteen year olds didn't go out and they definitely didn't party. That cost money and money was something they weren't willing to part with. _We'll party in New York._

"Six." He replied. Rachel's face lit up. That gave them the rest of the afternoon to hang out. "I thought we could watch 'The Wizard of Oz' and sing along to all the songs. We have to keep our voices in top condition if we're going to sing on Broadway one day." Rachel squealed. Nothing sounded better than sitting on the old Hummel couch and singing songs with Kurt.

The two cuddled on the couch and watched the movie in relative silence; only choosing to sing along with their favorite songs. Eventually, late afternoon rolled around and it was time for Kurt to get ready for work. It was unspoken knowledge that they were both disappointed.

Kurt drove his father's old pickup truck to the club. He'd been forced to part with a lot, but he was never going to get rid of the truck. It was one of the few things that still smelled like his dad; Old Spice, stale coffee, and something that was distinctly Burt Hummel. Some days, Kurt sat in the truck for hours and sniffed the upholstery. Other days, he sat in his room smelling the drawers that his mother once used. Her scent had long since faded but it helped none the less.

The old Chevy pulled into a spot at the far end of the club parking lot. Kurt sniffed the steering wheel for courage –a ritual he'd adopted just after he'd started dancing- and climbed out. The parking lot was mostly barren with only a few cars scattered here and there. As he did every day, Kurt thanked his lucky stars that he was fortunate enough to work nights. Dayshift dancers made half the money and their customers were twice as grimy. The two day shifts he'd worked resulted in an obscene number of showers and a doubled water bill.

Kurt walked through the back door and into the heart of the back stage area. A few of his colleagues were gearing up for their evening performances others were gathered around Will, listening to stories from his previous life. Apparently, he'd been a teacher at one point in time. Kurt made a face. He always found it difficult to imagine the shady business man teaching children.

Kurt turned away from the scene and walked to his station. He needed to get ready. He only had one performance that night, so he had to make it count. He had to look and dance like his bank account depended on it because it did. Risen gas prices and the general cost of living were wearing the teen's small pockets down. That coupled with the dwindling business at the club was driving him broke. So, Kurt had to make his one dance of the night worth it. And he knew exactly how.

* * *

"I'm so glad you guys called. I thought I was going to have to spend my night working." Blaine rolled his eyes at the girl. Santana was a piece of work.

"You're supposed to be at work." It wasn't a question. Santana shrugged and stepped into the line. It was longer than when they'd visited a few weeks ago.

"I'm a doctor, I makes my own hours." She replied. Blaine sighed and shrank back when the Latina and his blonde coworker sparked up a conversation. He was starting to feel self-conscious. He could probably find someone to play his boyfriend but he wanted Kalvin. Kalvin was gorgeous and something about him screamed 'I can make someone jealous'. In a twisted way, that's what he wanted. He wanted Jeremiah to be jealous. He wanted Jeremiah to be so jealous that he dropped his French boy and ran back to Blaine. They could start again. That's what Blaine wanted. He wanted a do over. He wanted to show Jeremiah that he was worth a second chance, even if things were bad in the end.

The end.

Things were really bad in the end. Through Jeremiah's mistakes and mishaps, Blaine always blamed himself for their divorce, even if he had no control over it.

Blaine and Jeremiah married a few months after Blaine's 22 birthday. They were both young but their love seemed endless. People talked, but it didn't matter, they had each other. After a whirlwind high school romance, the two felt it was time. The opinions of others didn't matter.

The first year and a half went well. They went on dates, spent never ending time together, and had the most amazing sex. Then, Jeremiah cheated. He pleaded his case to his husband and won. The young pharmacy student forgave his husband for 'accidentally' sleeping with a fellow design major. "We all make mistakes, honey." Blaine said as he held his weeping husband in the middle of their too tiny apartment.

Things returned to normal and they spent the next few months reconnecting. Then, Jeremiah slept with a coworker from his internship. Blaine, once again, forgave him. "I do spend a lot of time in school and doing my clinicals. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." Blaine's apology was honest and heartfelt. Jeremiah accepted it and they tried to move on from the situation.

Then came the barista from the coffee shop, the bartender at Scandals, and the local Emmy award winning news anchor. Blaine forgave his husband each time. He loved Jeremiah; unconditionally.

Quinn and Blaine met during Blaine's rotations. They were both interning at Lima Memorial Hospital and they clicked well. Neither wanted to work in a hospital setting and both were gay. In their minds, they had a lot in common. "You and your husband should come out with some friends and me tonight. We'll grab some beers and shoot the shit. It'll be fun." Blaine was reluctant but eventually gave in. He and Jeremiah hadn't been out in ages.

Jeremiah made a beeline for the bathroom when they entered the restaurant. Blaine shrugged and adjusted his glasses. Once they were perched perfect, they scanned the room for Quinn. "Two?" The hostess asked.

"Ummm…I'm actually looking for a group of people." He replied hesitantly. He'd always been a bit skittish.

His eyes roamed the room again and he spotted her; blond hair pulled back into a pony tail and a smile on her face. She was a beautiful girl, he'd give her that, but he wasn't into girls so it didn't matter. As soon as Blaine noticed her, Quinn looked up. Her smile broadened and she waved him over. "That's them. I'll just…yeah…" He finished lamely. The hostess nodded and stepped aside.

The table was packed. Next to Quinn sat a girl with flowing black hair and her arms around the people seated next to her; a guy with a Mohawk on one side and a guy with unusually large lips on the other. "Blaine. I'm so happy you could make it. Where's your husband?" Quinn looked around but didn't see anyone near him.

"He's in the bathroom." Blaine squeaked. With all eyes on him, he felt self-conscious.

"Where are my manors? These are some of my friends. Sam," she pointed to Trouty Mouth, "Santana," the Latina, "and Puck," she ended with Mohawk." Blaine nodded and waved. "Guys, this is Blaine. Be nice." Quinn's tone went cold and Blaine wondered how many friends they hadn't been nice to.

Santana pulled her arms from around the boys and pointed to the booth seat next to Quinn. Blaine took it. "So, you're Q's new BFF?" She asked.

"Ummm…"

"Shut up, Santana, you know you can't be replaced." Quinn replied. There was a hint of flirting behind her words.

"True. Momma is one of a kind." Everyone laughed, including Blaine. "So, Too Short, tell us about yourself. You're gay right?" It seemed an odd question because of Quinn's previous remark about his husband.

"Ummm…yeah. Is that a problem?" He assumed they all knew that Quinn was gay, so he couldn't be sure.

Puck spoke up. "Naw, dude, Satan is just looking for a new dude to get down with. She thinks that people will sleep with anyone, regardless of 'sexuality'." Air quotes.

"That's right. Momma believes in fluidity, so…how gay are you?" Her eyes narrowed seductively and, for a moment- a very short moment, Blaine was turned on. That'd never happened with a girl before.

"I'm gay enough to like to be fucked in the ass." Quinn choked on her drink at Blaine's words. He was so put together. He never cussed and he never indulged in talk about his sex life. Yet, there he was, matching Santana's tone and body language. The blond was hesitant of him at first –_he reminds me of the guys I met at Vacation Bible School_- but, now, she knew she liked him. Apparently, Santana felt the same way.

"I like you, you dress a little funny, but I like you." Blaine looked down at his crooked bowtie and pulled it straight. He was so embarrassed. He didn't say things like that. He didn't cuss and he definitely didn't talk about sex. Despite what Santana said, he was certain that they'd never invite him to hang out again. Everyone laughed at the comment, but he was sure they were uncomfortable. _This is why Jeremiah is your only real friend. You always do these things. _

Speak of the devil. Jeremiah walked up just as the laughter died down. "Hey, babe, I couldn't find the table." Blaine's husband said as he scooted into the booth. Blaine smiled, thankful that his husband was finally there. Jeremiah made him feel safe.

"Everyone, this is my husband-"

Santana cut him off. "Jeremiah? What the fuck?" Blaine looked between the two. Santana was staring daggers at his husband and Jeremiah was shrinking in his seat. He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Ummmm…you guys know each other?" Sam questioned. _Obviously._ Blaine didn't say it though. He felt the air in the room change and he knew what was going to happen next. It was exactly what happened with the barista and the bartender. Blaine closed his eyes and hung his head.

"Ummm…yeah. And when we _knew_ each other, he didn't let me _know_ that he was married….or _supposedly_ exclusively gay." Santana barked. Her words were venomous. By that time, Jeremiah was standing from his seat.

"Listen, that was a long time ago-"

"Was it?"

"Since when is 2 weeks ago a 'long time ago'?" Blaine and Santana questioned at the same time. Neither waited for an answer. Santana pushed Puck out of the booth and stormed off towards and exit and Blaine stood and stormed towards another. He was pissed and he was tired.

Blaine took their car and left Jeremiah standing in the parking lot. He'd never be able to look Quinn in the eyes again. It was a shame, she had nice eyes.

In unbearable silence, Blaine drove to their apartment. He rushed out of the car and into the house. He'd embarrassed himself enough for one night; he wasn't going to break down in the parking lot. His neighbors would talk.

Once the front door was closed, Blaine lost it. He'd forgiven and forgotten more times than he cared to remember. _Why aren't I enough?_ He thought. He cried until Jeremiah got home. Then, things got complicated.

"Babe, open the door. We should talk." Jeremiah shouted through the bathroom door. Blaine, who was sat in the middle of the empty bath tub, did not respond. He was so tired of giving with no return. "Come on, you know I'm sorry. It was a mistake."

It wasn't. Blaine had long since given up on the 'accidental sex' theory. "Please leave me alone, I need time." He finally shouted back.

He heard his husband scoff and it infuriated him. "Time? What do you need time for? I told you I'm sorry. What else do you want from me?" Blaine stood up in the tub. Jeremiah's words inadvertently opened Pandora's Box. He moved across the tiny bathroom in quick strides and opened the door.

"What do I want from you?" His voice rose as he spoke. "How about fidelity? How about respect? How about taking responsibility for your actions? How about being enough of a husband and a man to not cheat on your husband? Those are the things that I want from you!"

Jeremiah's face looked perplexed. He seemed honestly confused by Blaine's rant. Blaine sighed, the fight leaving his body, and hung his head. "You can't even wrap your head around those things." He whispered. "They're so simple and you look so confused."

"Babe, you're making this into more than it has to be." Jeremiah replied.

Blaine shook his head. "No, you're not making it into enough." When his head lifted, he looked at his husband, the man he exchanged vows with. "I think you should leave because I can't do this anymore."

Jeremiah turned on his heel without a word. Within an hour, the man was packed and out the door. Walking away was easier for him than Blaine expected it to be. Four years of marriage and Jeremiah walked away as if he was leaving the dinner table. No goodbye, no turning back.

Surprisingly, Santana was the first person to contact Blaine after Jeremiah left. She apologized profusely and explained that she didn't know the man was married. Blaine forgave her and they began to hang out.

A week after his 27th birthday, Blaine was served divorce papers during a lecture. He was embarrassed to be singled out in class but he was more heartbroken that his estranged husband didn't want to try to work things out. He'd missed Jeremiah since the moment he'd left, despite Quinn and Santana's advice against it.

After a few months of fighting over the phone about it, Jeremiah convinced Blaine to sign the papers. "We were better as friends, Babe. You know that. I think we should let it go and just try to be friends. We were never meant to be married." He was so calm and collected. Blaine let himself imagine that Jeremiah's demeanor towards the situation was partially attributed to the fact that he'd just gotten a job in France as a designer and not that he was relieved to be getting a divorce.

"But I love you. I'm sorry I asked you leave." Blaine begged.

"And I love you, too. That's why we should do this. We weren't happy together." Blaine signed the papers that night.

Just after his 28th birthday, the divorce was final. Blaine had just finished school and gotten a job as a pharmacist in town. It was bitter sweet. He found himself crying most nights over the husband he'd let go. He went over different ways he could have kept Jeremiah and they all resulted in ways that he should have changed himself.

"But I might be able to show him how I've changed and then he'll come back." Quinn and Santana turned in the line and stared at him.

"What?" Quinn asked. Blaine blushed. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Nothing." He squeaked before stepping towards the bouncer. The man looked him up and down.

"I shouldn't let you in with those shoes." Blaine looked down at his dirty Adidas. They contrasted with his pressed gray slacks and his black dress shirt, but they were comfortable to wear to work. "You look like you got money to spend though, so I'll make an exception."

Blaine raised an eyebrow and stepped past the man. Quinn and Santana walked in behind him, giggling at the encounter. "Why didn't you change before coming?" the Latina asked.

"Yeah, Blaine, I even went home and changed." Quinn added.

"I was nervous." He offered. The girls laughed harder as they made their way through the club.

"Nervous to ask a stripper to be your fake boyfriend?" Blaine rolled his eyes. He knew they'd laugh the second he told them his plan.

The three sat down at a table near the front. "Screw you guys. I'm sure he's a nice guy. Besides, I have cash and everyone likes cash."

Santana doubled over laughing_. It's not that funny._ "I just think it's hilarious. Blaine is going to get a stripper to meet his douchebag ex-husband. I love it. You can't write this stuff." The girls laughed and the young pharmacist rolled his eyes at them.

"And now, for your viewing pleasure….." The MC trailed off and music started. Blaine and his friends turned their attention towards the stage. A familiar guitar riff with a name that Blaine couldn't place rang out through the seedy club. The curtain rose and Blaine made out the shape of a pair of bare feet that connected to the most spectacular legs he'd ever seen.

The curtain continued to rise and the crowd went crazy. Posed with one hand wrapped around a brass pole and the other rested on his cocked hip was Kalvin. He stared seductively at the crowd in nothing but a leopard print loincloth. Blaine exhaled through his nose. At least he knew Kalvin was working.

Kalvin swayed on his feet back and forth to the music. Apparently, everyone else in the club knew the song because they were all beginning to crowd around the tiny stage. The song continued without any lyrics and Kalvin spun effortlessly around the pole a few times. Dollar bills began to litter the stage floor.

On his last spin, Kalvin dropped to his knees in front of the pole. In one swift movement, he rolled on his back and planted both feet shoulder width apart. He used the leverage of his planted feet to push himself back up until he was gripping the pole again.

Blaine watched in awe as Kalvin grinded against the pole. Then the beat dropped and the cheers became deafening.

_Welcome to the jungle, we got fun 'n' games_

_We got everything you want, honey we know the names_

Blaine watched as Kalvin climbed the pole and worked it like a pro. He turned tricks like an aerialist and danced on the pole as if they were old lovers. A few times, Kalvin wrapped his legs around the pole and Blaine found himself wishing Kalvin would wrap his legs around him like that.

A few minutes into the song, Kalvin planted his feet on the ground and tore away the loincloth, sending it flying off stage. There he was, still dancing in time with the song; in only a pair of tiny leopard print underwear. Blaine's heart raced. He watched as Kalvin danced around different parts of the stage, using the pole as needed, and flirted money out of the customers. That's when he noticed the feeling in his chest; he clenching feeling that he couldn't quite name.

_In the jungle, welcome to the jungle_

_Watch it bring you to your kn-kn-kn-kn-kn-kn-knees, knees_

_I wanna watch you bleed_

Kalvin dropped to his knees and then dropped his hands to the floor. He looked like a leopard waiting to pounce. All he needed was the right victim.

Kalvin crawled across the stage as the song continued. He thrust his hips and shook his ass every so often but he didn't stop his voyage. Crowds shouted from different parts of the audience to get his attention. Everyone wanted Kalvin to dance for them. Kalvin seemed determined to dance for whomever he selected.

* * *

Kurt searched the audience for a single person; not anyone particular, just a person to watch while he finished the song. The man with the Rolex watch or the woman with the Dooney and Burke bag. The customer that would pay the most money.

His eyes wandered as he crawled around the stage. They were all his usuals; the ones that threw out fives instead of twenties. He did another scan and found his victim, the pharmacist. He remembered how much the girl paid for the lap dance, so he knew at least one of them had money.

Kurt caught the man's attention and they locked eyes. The pharmacist, Blake, had the most beautiful golden eyes he'd ever seen. If he and Rachel weren't so hell bent on leaving, he could see himself spending time with the man.

Kurt figuratively shook the thoughts away and got back into his dance. He locked his charcoal encased blue eyes on the man and began to crawl across the stage.

_You know where you are, you're in the jungle baby_

_You're gonna die_

Kurt slithered down the stage to the man. He looked scared. _Good, he should be._

* * *

Blaine gulped when their eyes locked. Kalvin looked crazy and seductive. It was invigorating. _I think he wants to eat me. Please eat me._ He watched as the dancer crawled down the stage towards him. When the two were face to face, Blaine did the only thing he could fathom. He pulled out a 20 bill and held it up. Kalvin smirked and then shot him a wink. Blaine's breath caught. Kalvin's wild sex cat look was hot. _Is he hot in here or is it just me?_

"Give me a dollar!" Santana shouted. Reluctantly, Blaine broke eye contact.

"What?"

"Give me some money. Unless he's going to take my American Express card, I need some damn cash." She was flushed and Blaine understood why. Kalvin was hot. Blaine took to stereotyping the man and assumed he was gay based on his features. That didn't mean he wasn't hot though. Men and women alike were fawning over him. Absently, the pharmacist reached into his pocket and handed over his wallet.

When he turned back, Kalvin was still dancing in front of him. After a few moment of rolling his hips in the air, the dancer leaned back down until he was eyelevel with the customer.

_In the jungle, welcome to the jungle_

_Feel my, my, my, my serpentine_

Kalvin leaned towards the bill and caught it between his teeth. Blaine swore his heart stopped. For a fraction of a second, he felt Kalvin's soft upper lip brush against his thumb. It was gone quickly though; too quickly. Santana was smacking the dancer's ass and shoving Blaine's hard earned money into the dancer's underwear. _That'll draw attention away from anything._ Blaine thought.

Kalvin finished his entire dance in front of Santana. Blaine was disappointed but he tried not to let it show. He couldn't let disappointment ruin his plans. Plans. Crap. That's right, he was supposed to be fawning over a dancer, he was supposed to hire said dancer to make his ex-husband jealous.

* * *

Things didn't work out as planned. Inadvertently, Blaine offended the dancer with his proposition and the dancer stormed off without giving a proper answer. That was how Blaine ended up at The Lima Bean sitting across from his ex-husband and the fiancé.

"So, Sebastian, that doesn't sound French." Blaine tried. His attempts at conversation always circled back to the fact that his 'boyfriend' was absent.

"Do I sound French?" The man retorted. He seemed bored and he was obnoxious. And, he wasn't French. Blaine knew the moment the two walked in that the man was no fit for his ex-husband. He was cocky and arrogant. Personality wise, he was a carbon copy of Jeremiah. _That'll never work. It's like he's marrying himself._ His thoughts were as bitter as the taste in his mouth.

"Call Kalvin again. I'm sure he's off work by now." Jeremiah urged. Blaine bit his lip nervously._ If I had a boyfriend named Kalvin, he'd be here. _He didn't though. There was a Kalvin, but they were nothing to one another. So, he sat back and made up a lie. It was the best he could do until he found another solution to his issue.

* * *

"….I think it's sweet." Rachel said as she held the door for her friend. Kurt rolled his eyes and walked into the tiny café. The Lima Bean was their home away from home during high school. They continued to frequent it even after graduation.

Kurt stepped into the line –_there coffee is not good enough for the line to be this long_- before staring down at his friend. "He asked me to be his prostitute. That's not sweet."

"No he didn't. He asked you to do him a favor for money. That's business. Besides, he just needs someone to play his boyfriend. He never asked you to sleep with him."

"Yet. He hasn't asked me to sleep with him yet. Then, if I do, he'll give me money. That's prostitution in most parts of the world."

"Oh, Kurt, it could have been like Pretty Woman."

"Yeah, except we end up in New York and he ends up fucking his ex. Julia Roberts wouldn't think to highly of that ending." Rachel giggled.

"True. But, what he was offering would have put us so much closer to New York than we are now." She was right. Blaine's money would have meant only a few more months of saving. It was tempting, so tempting, but Kurt couldn't do it. He didn't care about the sob story, he was above selling himself. _Even if I do it every night. _

"….I told you, he's at work." The voice sounded familiar. He scanned the room quickly and spotted the owner of the voice. It was Blaine and he looked frazzled.

"Too busy to meet and old friend?" A man with curly, blond hair and piercing green eyes asked. He must have been the ex, Jermaine.

"Yes, his work is very important to him."

Another guy, a meerkat of a fellow, scoffed. "Right. What does he do again?" Blaine shrank. The two blonds at the table were ganging up on him and he looked lost. Kurt acted before he had a chance to think. _Dad always said to help the less fortunate._

"Baby, there you are. I got off early." Kurt chirped as he neared the table. Blaine's head whipped around and his eyes bugged out.

"I….you….uhhh." Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled up a chair from an empty table. He sat it close to the pharmacist and plopped down in it. Blaine's guests did not look pleased; especially Jermaine.

"Oh…you must be Kalvin. I've heard so much about you." Meerkat said as he stared the dancer up and down. Kurt rolled his eyes. He'd seen that look before. Meerkat was checking him out.

"I can't say the same." Kurt replied. He then looped his arm around Blaine's elbow before turning his attention to Jermaine. "You must be the ex. It's nice to finally meet you, Jermaine." At that, Blaine choked on the coffee he was sipping. It was the first sound the man had made since his attempt to talk gone wrong.

"It's Jeremiah." The man gritted through his teeth. Kurt smirked.

"I'm sorry, Jeremiah. I'm horrible with names. Let's try this again, I'm Ku-" One look at Blaine and realized that no one knew his real name, "Kalvin and you're Jeremiah. I'm a hair stylist and you're a…chef?"

"Designer. I design clothes in Paris."

"Fancy." Kurt's unimpressed reply put a scowl on Jeremiah's face. The dancer put on his best 'innocent' face and took a sip of his coffee.

After a round of uncomfortable questions and answers –all of which Kurt breezed through, the teen had gotten the best of Blaine's ex. So Jeremiah and Sebastian chose to leave. He'd already text Rachel and told her to meet him at home, so only Blaine and Kurt remained in the coffee shop.

"Thank you so much, Kalvin. Thank you. You have no idea how much you just helped me." Blaine's eyes were wide and his gratitude was genuine. It didn't deter Kurt, however.

"I only did it because I felt sorry for you. They were eating you alive." Blaine nodded because it was true. "Obviously we're going to have to continue this, so listen up." Blaine sat up straight in his seat and gave Kurt all his attention.

"I'm leaving for New York in a few months and I need money, more money than you offered. So, I'll do this, but I want twice what you offered. I play this up nice for you and you reward me monetarily. I expect you to keep me informed of anything that pertains to this 'relationship' and, in exchange, I make your ex so jealous that he can't remember his fiancé's name. Then, in the end, I move to New York and you and Jeremiah live happily ever after. Got it?"

Blaine nodded. "Good! So, we stick to the stylist story and I can do this around work and school. I'm not stopping my grind to help you. Got it?" Again, Blaine nodded. "Good." Kurt stood up from the table and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "What's your number?"

Blaine rattled off his phone number and Kurt typed it in. A few moments later, Blaine felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out of his pocket and opened the text message.

**My name is Kurt by the way. –k**

He smiled to himself. Kurt was a lovely name. When he looked up to tell his 'boyfriend' that, Kal-Kurt was gone. He was left sitting alone at a table with four empty coffee cups. He didn't mind, though. He'd just gotten himself a new, fake boyfriend and he was well on his way to getting Jeremiah back. He couldn't be happier.

* * *

**A/N: I decided to skip the proposition scene because…well because I felt like it. I didn't feel like we needed to see Kurt turn Blaine down. However, if enough people want it, I can write the events in conversation form later. Like they're reminiscing on it or whatever. Wanna send a big thank you to my new beta: imagleek5 She's such a sweetie and I'm a slave driver. Many apologies. Like always, let me know what you think. Or I can write a Bleremiah sex scene. I wouldn't really, but the threat sounded nice. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Song for he chapter is 'Toxic' - Britney Spears. Kinda not in the mood for this chapter because 'The Break Up' just ended and I have no fucking closure. I've never wished any hurt or pain to Ryan Murphy but...I don't like him too much right now. **_  
_

* * *

_Baby, can't you see_

_I'm calling_

_A guy like you_

_Should wear a warning_

_It's dangerous_

_I'm falling_

Kurt ran skilled fingers along the brim of the pinstriped fedora that matched his tear away suit. The audience sat stone still as he flitted around the stage. They were entranced. That's how he liked it.

The dancer unbuttoned his blazer and let it fall from his shoulders. He tossed it to the man holding up the hundred dollar bill. A few people grabbed for it but Kurt didn't see who actually ended up with the prized item. The second it left his fingertips, the dancer was turning his attention to another section of the audience.

_Too high_

_Can't come down_

_Losing my head_

_Spinning 'round and 'round_

_Do you feel me now_

Kurt rolled his hips to the beat and danced towards the different tables. The spell was broken. Long gone was the quiet crowd. The customers were shouting at him and begging him to dance for them. Kurt smirked and ran his fingers along the line of buttons on his dress shirt. _They want it. They want it so bad. _

_With the taste of your lips_

_I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic I'm slipping under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I'm addicted to you_

_Don't you know that you're toxic_

_And I love what you do_

_Don't you know that you're toxic_

Kurt forewent unbuttoning the shirt and tore it away. Buttons flew across the stage and out into the crowd. The dancer shouldered the shirt and tossed it to a man who, in return, shoved a few twenties into his pants.

Kurt sashayed around the stage. He stopped every few seconds to tease the audience with the prospect of losing his pants. They threw their hard earned money at him and he continued to tease. He loved his job.

The last chorus rang through the club and Kurt was done teasing. Slowly, he undid the button and let the pants pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them quickly and kicked them off stage. There he stood, in all his glory, wearing nothing but a hat and tiny pair of black Cheekies with 'Kalvin' bedazzled across the ass.

_Intoxicate me now_

_With your lovin' now_

_I think I'm ready now_

_I think I'm ready now_

X

Blaine watched in awe from the audience. As usual, Kalvin's performance was amazing. Hell, Kalvin was amazing. _Kurt. Man oh man, his name is Kurt._ Blaine needed to keep that in mind. He and Kurt were meant to have dinner after the dancer's shift. They wanted to get their stories straight for a dinner with Jeremiah and Sebastian the following evening. In order to perpetuate the dating façade, their information needed to match perfectly. Jeremiah would spot a lie and then he'd find out just how truly pathetic Blaine was. The pharmacist couldn't have that. He didn't want that. He wanted his ex to see how much he'd changed; for him. And, well, he wanted Jeremiah to get jealous. A jealous Jeremiah was a possessive and territorial Jeremiah.

Blaine sat through a group act and thought about his time with his ex. He remembered the time a police officer flirted with him and the amazing sex he and his ex-husband had afterwards. _Kurt is a million times better looking than that cop was. Jeremiah is going to be at my feet by the end of the week_. The pharmacist smirked at the thought when he felt his phone vibrate. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket and checked the message.

**Changing right now. I'll see you in a few. –K**

The elder took that as his cue to leave. He spent $10 on the cover charge and he only paid attention to one dance; Kurt's dance. It was worth the money. Kurt owned the stage.

A few moments later, Blaine found himself waiting patiently in his car. He dried his palms on his slacks as he waited. Why were they sweating? _Why am I so nervous? It's not like he's Jeremiah._ Blaine's mind rattled when the car door opened. The young dancer rushed into the car and slammed the door behind him. All Blaine could do was stare questioningly. "Hey." Kurt chirped. "Sorry I'm late, Will tried to dick me at payout." He explained as he fastened his seatbelt.

Blaine nodded but didn't immediately respond. Instead, he took in the dancer's appearance. Gone were the tear away clothes and in their place was a pair of skinny jeans paired with an oversized sweater that looked far too fashionable for the pharmacist's taste_. I think I'll stick to my Lacoste sweaters and bowties. Thank you very much._ "It's alright. I haven't been waiting long."

Kurt nodded but didn't respond verbally. After a spell, Blaine started the car and drove towards Breadstix. It was the only acceptable restaurant that he knew Sebastian and Jeremiah wouldn't be at. He didn't want to risk the possibility of them overhearing their conversation and finding out that the relationship was a farce.

The two were seated and ordered their food. Blaine was surprised when Kurt turned down wine in favor of water but that would be a conversation for another day. Neither man spoke until their food arrived a while later. Kurt spent the time prior sending texts and Blaine spent his time checking work emails. "Here you go boys. Enjoy." The waitress said as she sat their food down in front of them; a giant salad for Kurt and a plate of baked spaghetti for Blaine.

"So…tell me everything, Blaine." Kurt said as he poured vinaigrette over his food. The elder man looked up and from behind the rim of his glasses.

"I figured you could start. You already know a bit about me. I know nothing about you." He replied civilly. Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Listen, Blaine," the way the man –_boy? He looks young_- said his name made Blaine cringe. He sounded bored. "I just spent the past few hours dancing my ass off. I'm fucking famished. Thus, I feel I deserve the opportunity to eat first. So…" he waved his hand in an attempt to get Blaine to talk. Instead, the elder sat back with a look of shock on his face. _God, this is a bad idea. He cusses and everything. My parents are going to hate that. _

Eventually, Blaine's brain caught up and he began to talk. He decided to start with his relationship with Jeremiah. He talked about their courtship and the proposal. Then he brought in the heavy hitters. He discussed their marriage and the dissolution of it. "….and I asked him to leave. I just….you have to understand. I was upset and I just…" Blaine finished with a lame shrug. He teetered on the edge of an emotional breakdown in response the memories. That's when he heard it; a laugh.

"Oh my god." Kurt was doubled over the table laughing to his heart's content. "So…why are we doing this again?" He giggled.

Blaine's face fell. "What do you mean? I told you I want him back. He won't just come back. I have to give him reason to want me back. We're doing this so he'll want me back."_ It's not that difficult to understand._

Kurt's laughter stopped abruptly. "Oh…I thought you were kidding about that part. I…I thought you just wanted to make him jealous."

Blaine's eyes went wide. "Really? I told you why I wanted to do all this and –"

"And I think it's stupid. Listen, if he doesn't want you for you then he doesn't deserve you. Move on." Kurt's words stung. Blaine placed his fork down and sat back in his chair. He pulled his arms across his chest defensively and stared at the young man.

"Why are you being so mean?" He asked. His voice was harsh and accusatory. "I figured we could be friends or something. I mean, you were so nice on the phone and-"

Kurt, number one on Blaine's 'jerk of the week' list, rolled his eyes. "I'm not being mean, I'm being real. I'm also not your friend, so I'm not obligated to be nice to you. That first day, I was caught in the heat of the moment. But…I don't really do the friend thing; at least not here. Not now. "

"I'm paying you, so I suggest you change your tune."

"That's right." Kurt shot back. "You're paying me. You're paying me to be your _boyfriend_ in this whole fucked up plan. You're not paying me to be your friend."

_Why is he so defensive about this?_ Blaine thought. He was genuinely confused. "I don't need any more friends. Friends create ties and I don't want any more ties to Ohio. This is business."

"So make it your business to be a little bit nicer to me." Blaine half shouted. A few heads turned and Blaine shrunk under their scrutiny. _Many oh man._ He never raised his voice._ Never. Well…that one time with Jeremiah but…never before and never again. Well…until now_.

"Fine." Kurt sat back in his chair as well and crossed his arms to mirror Blaine's. "You're right. I have no right to be nasty towards you. I mean…it's not like we would be friends anyways. I'm sure you have a whole circle of higher ups that you run around with. I'm just a lowly dancer. Anywho, is there anything else I need to know about you?"

Blaine ignored the self-depreciating comment. "I'm not one for PDA, my middle name is Dexter, I'm allergic to shellfish, both my parents are pharmacists, and I have a dog named Doo Wop." Blaine rattled off meaningless facts that Jeremiah would throw at Kurt. If he knew Jeremiah, and he did, then he knew the blonde would use the facts as a challenge. He needed Kurt to be able to answer them because Jeremiah hated easy victories. He liked to fight and come out victorious. Blaine could give him that. He would give him anything.

Kurt caught very little of Blaine's random facts. He stopped to say, "Hold on, your middle name is Dexter? That's too perfect." And he held up a finger towards the end. "You have a dog named Doo Wop. Where did you come from?" By the end of the conversation, Blaine was annoyed. He hoped like Hell that Jeremiah would come around sooner rather than later because Kurt was kind of a jerk. _It doesn't even matter that he's hot_. He internally face palmed. Kurt wasn't hot. He was just…_nevermind_.

"If you're done laughing at me. Tell me about yourself. " Blaine gritted through his teeth.

Kurt shrugged and nibbled on his bread. "Not much to tell. I'm leaving in a few months. Do you want to tell Jeremiah that?"

That was it. Blaine stood up and began to gather his jacket. "I can't do this. You're not being serious and I can't take it. I'm sorry but the deal is-"

"Don't go. I'm sorry. I just…" Kurt shrugged and for the first time, he looked adorable. He looked even more adorable when he sighed and threw his hands down in his lap. "You're asking me to be your boyfriend –_technically speaking_- and I don't know how. I've never done this before. It's going to be my toughest performance….like ever!"

Blaine didn't know he made the move to sit back down until he felt the chair beneath his butt. He was perplexed. Dumbfounded. "You've never had a boyfriend?" The words felt wrong coming out of his mouth.

Kurt shot him a scandalized look. "Ummm…what do you take me for?" When Blaine didn't answer, Kurt glared at him. "I'm not a whore, ya know. I do what I have to do to get by, but I do jump from guy to guy."

For the first time in a long time, Blaine felt horrible. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed and-"

"Damn right!" Kurt cut in. _Somewhere, somehow, he's related to Santana. No one snarks this much without being related to her. _

"AND…" Blaine's voice was strained again. "I'm going to need you to cut back on your cussing, my parents don't like it. AND, if this is going to work, I need to know about you so…" Kurt flipped his wrist, indicating that it was Kurt's turn to speak.

"Fine!" Kurt deflated. "I'm 19-"

"Oh my God, you're a baby! You have to be older. We'll say you're 23. How does that sound? I loved being 23."

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine's mini meltdown._ If you keep rolling your eyes, honey, they're going to get stuck in the back of your head. _The memory of his mother telling his 3 year old self that popped into his mind. "I don't think that'll work if we go out and I can't produce an ID for alcohol." He replied absently. "Having a 19 year old boyfriend will drive Jeremiah crazy. Trust me."

Blaine looked uneasy but he didn't speak. So, Kurt continued. "I live with my friend, Rachel, I'm in cosmetology school, and I'm moving to New York when this is all done. After you and Jeremiah send me that fat check, I'm jumping on the first thing smoking to New York."

"Why New York?" Blaine asked as he rested his head in his palm.

Kurt asked himself that time and time again. He always came up with the same answer. "Why not?" Blaine hummed and shrugged. He was an Ohio boy through and through. He was born and he would probably die in Ohio. He loved it though. Ohio was safe. Ohio was predictable. Those were two things that rested high on Blaine's list of priorities.

Their waitress chose that moment to come and collect their empty dishes. "Will you two be having dessert?" She asked hesitantly. By the look on her face, Kurt concluded that they had frightened the young woman with their shouting earlier in the evening.

Both men replied in the negative and the waitress trudged off with their dishes. "What do I need to know about your family? I'm assuming you won't want me to meet them since this is a 'business arraignment'" Kurt snickered at the elder's air quotes, "but I'd like to have something to tell Jer and Sebastian when I talk about you."

The dancer did his best to remain impassive. "You can tell them whatever you want."

"We just established that it was best to be semi truthful in this lie when we discussed your age. Don't you think that sentiment should carry over into other aspects?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged. "I'm sure whatever lie we come up will sound better than 'yeah, they're dead'." He watched as Blaine's face fell. _Here it comes in 5, 4, 3, 2…_

"Kurt, I'm so sorry. I didn't….I didn't know. If it makes you feel better, we can just lie or something." _1._

"She was a nurse and he was a mechanic. I was an only child. We can change the tenses from past to present and we're in business." Blaine knew that he boy's sarcasm was a defense mechanism but he was not inclined to call the boy out on it.

"Will you be comfortable with that?" He asked. _I wouldn't be._

_Of course not._ "It is what it is."

Their conversation continued at a much rapid pace. They perfected the details of their lies and Blaine paid the bill. They continued to talk on their way out to Blaine's car and on the drive to Kurt's house. When the pharmacist pulled his car into the driveway of the tiny home, he looked over at Kurt. "So, dinner tomorrow at 8?" He asked.

"Yep."

"Great."

Kurt stared at house. It was once a lovely house but it seemed to grow more dull and lifeless as time passed. _Dad would kill me if he saw that shutter hanging the way it is._ "You ready for this? Parts of this whole experience are going to be crazy but it will be a great story to tell your acting buddies when you're in New York." Blaine said. He followed Kurt's far off gaze and noticed the hanging shutter as well.

"Blaine Anderson, I was born ready." With that, Kurt stepped out of the car and walked into the house.

* * *

**A/N: Review if you're not too drunk or depressed! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: For the sake of a single sentence in this chapter, Blaine got into a pre pharm program out of high school, thus he went to college for 6 years instead of 8. Thank you to my beta, ImAGleek5. Onward with the story!**

* * *

Blaine pulled the car into the restaurant parking lot and turned to his 'boyfriend'. "Listen, order whatever you want. It's on me. Just…make me look good, okay?" The man's giant eyes shone with anticipation and need. He needed things to go well and Kurt understood that; kind of.

The dancer shot his 'boyfriend' a thumbs up and stepped out of the car. There was no use letting his heartbreak a more over the little things that he wasn't getting out of his first date._ You chose this. You told him that you didn't want this to be more than business. Now you have to deal with the consequences._ The consequences were the feelings of disappointment and shame that pulsed through his body with every passing moment. He was disappointed that that his first date wasn't a real date and he was ashamed that he sold out every romantic fantasy he ever had about dating for money. _What would mom and dad say?_ He shivered at the thought. He couldn't bear to think what his parents would think of him.

"Hold my hand." Blaine requested. He held out a large calloused palm and waited for Kurt to take it. Instead, the dancer stared at it. _He wants me to hold his hand? Isn't that a bit intimate? _Blaine noticed Kurt's hesitation and sighed. "Listen, I'm a whore for hand holding. Jeremiah knows that. If we walk in there and we're not joined at the finger tips, he'll notice. So…please?" There were those needy eyes again. Kurt melted despite himself and took the man's hand.

The second their fingers laced together, Kurt felt it. A bolt of electricity shot though his body and it caused him to stop walking mid stride. Blaine noticed the boy's hesitation and stopped to check on him. "Are you okay?" Kurt nodded and began to walk again.

"Umm…yeah. You shocked me. Darn static electricity." He replied nervously. Blaine nodded because felt the shock as well. The moment Kurt's offensively soft hands touched his, electricity flooded his body. It coursed through his veins and made his heart hammer against his chest. The initial shock was intense but he recovered quickly.

"Yeah. Static shock." He replied as they walked into the establishment. They were greeted by a long line. Blaine was a patient man but lines were his pet peeve. He hated the look of pure distain that was painted on peoples' faces when they were forced to wait in a line; it was disheartening. He also hated how much time was allotted for thinking while waiting in line. One thought continued to race through Blaine's mind as they stood in line. _His hands are so soft._ The softness of the dancer's hands was perplexing.

Another thought that rang through Blaine's mind was how perfectly their hands fit together. His fingers always had to strain around Jeremiah's when they held hands but Kurt's fingers fit perfectly between his own. For a moment, a brief moment, Blaine found himself wishing that he and Kurt could hold hands forever. The thought was gone as quickly as it came. That was preposterous. Kurt wasn't even his type; not really.

"Party of two?" The hostess asked. _When had the line moved?_ Blaine shook his head instinctively.

"No, actually, we're here with the Myers/Smythe party." Kurt replied when Blaine didn't speak. The hostess looked over her reservation book and found their names.

"Right this way." She replied. She grabbed a few menus and led the men towards the table. "Here you go." She said once they'd reached the table. There sat Jeremiah and Sebastian enthralled in a deep conversation. The two ceased their conversation when they heard the hostess speak.

Kurt and Blaine thanked the young woman and took their seats. _Why am I disappointed that he didn't pull out my chair? This isn't a real date._ Kurt thought as he pulled the chair out and sat down.

_Maybe I should have pulled out his chair. I know he said this isn't a date or anything but it would have been nice._ Blaine chastised himself. _It would have also looked great in front of Jeremiah_. "Here's the happy couple now. Hey guys!" Blaine's ex shouted a little too enthusiastically. Blaine grinned like a madman at the enthusiasm. Kurt and Sebastian shared matching scowls.

"H-hi, Jer. Sebastian. How are you?" Blaine directed the question at his ex._ Really? Could he be more obvious? _Kurt thought. He did not get the opportunity to find out because the waitress entered at that moment to take their drink orders.

"Yeah…I'll just have water." Kurt said once everyone finished ordering their drinks. Jeremiah and Sebastian and stared at him in shock.

"Water? Really? Come on, Kalvin, live a little. He'll have a Sangria." Jeremiah insisted. The waitress crossed out the water and wrote down the drink order. Kurt was not pleased.

"Actually, ma'am, I would prefer water." The woman nodded and walked away. When she was out of sight, Kurt turned to Jeremiah. "Thanks for the suggestion, Jermaine, but I'm not much of a drinker. The last time I drank, I ended up going down on this one," he pointed to Blaine, "in the middle of the bar. It was crazy. One minute we're talking and the next, I'm on the ground with a face full of his cock."

Blaine's mouth dropped and his eyes popped out of their sockets. _Oh my God. Oh my God. He can't say that._ Kurt saw the look in his peripheral vision but ignored it. All couples had crazy sex stories, right? Right? The young man scanned the table. The only one that looked pleased with the story was Sebastian. Jeremiah looked angry and Blaine was hyperventilating. _Hmmm…guess not._

"Wow, Blaine. Seems like you've changed." Jeremiah said in an attempt to break the silence. The pharmacist flushed and shrugged. He couldn't exactly take it back. It would look shoddy to do so.

The waitress came back with their drinks a moment later and the men talked about their upcoming plans. Kurt was sure he was going to vomit when the engaged couple began talking about their wedding. Old Kurt would have found it endearing. New Kurt….not so much. "…and Jer told him that there was no way in hell he was wearing that monstrosity of a suit to our wedding." Sebastian and Jeremiah laughed at the story. _I guess you had to be there._ Kurt thought as he stabbed a piece of lettuce. He was not enjoying himself and, from the look of it, neither was Blaine.

* * *

Blaine left twice for the restroom during the wedding conversation. When Jeremiah and Sebastian began a discussion on honeymoon destinations, the pharmacist excused himself to make a phone call. He then spent ten minutes in the restroom trying to calm his nerves. He and Jeremiah barely had a honeymoon, so it was difficult to listen to his honeymoon plans with another man.

The second time, Blaine excused himself was when the couple began to baby talk one another. It was another of his pet peeves. It made his skin crawl and, more importantly, it made him jealous. Jeremiah never baby talked him when they were together. _What does Sebastian have that I don't have_? He thought as he paced the bathroom tile. _Sure he's tall and has those darn green eyes. That's it. He's a model for goodness sake. What is he going to do when his looks are gone? He doesn't have a plan. I have a plan. And a 401k. That counts for something._

Blaine continued to pace until he heard a knock at the door. He jumped at the sound. Of course, he should have expected it. Eventually, someone in the restaurant would need to use the restroom. "Sorry, um…hold on." He stuttered as he tried to gather himself.

"Blaine, it's me. I came to check on you." He heard Kurt say through the door. Well, that was unexpected. The pharmacist unlocked the door and Kurt barreled through it. "Jeez…you can't leave me out there with those people for too long." He complained as he walked towards the mirror. He checked his hair and his teeth before turning to the pharmacist.

"Sorry…I just-"

"Had to get away?" Kurt questioned. Blaine nodded.

"Yeah. I just…I don't understand what he sees in Sebastian and…oh…I'm sorry. I know you don't care about this. I'll just…l-let's go back." Blaine sounded defeated.

The younger man worried his lip between his teeth. Technically, the words should have been true. He wasn't supposed to care. He didn't want to care. But he did care. Never in his life had he seen a grown man –grey hairs and all- look so small. He sighed. "You can tell me. I'll listen."

"B-but you said we weren't friends. You said that this is just business." Blaine stammered.

Kurt rolled his eyes and leaned against the sink basin. "This might be business but I'm still human. My mother always told me to do onto others as I would want done onto me."

A sad smile stretched across the elder's face. "Your mother sounds like a smart woman."

Kurt nodded. "The smartest."

"What if he doesn't come back to me, Kurt? What if he really does marry Sebastian?" Blaine asked. The look on his face suggested that he needed an answer.

Kurt looked up and their eyes met. They held each other's gaze for a moment before Kurt looked away. He couldn't look into the elder's sorrow filled eyes for a moment longer. They reminded him of how he felt every day. "Then you move on. You let them be happy and you go chase your own happiness."

"Is that why you're going to New York? Are you chasing your happiness?" Blaine asked. The question caught Kurt off guard because it was the first genuine question he'd been asked all evening. He nodded.

"Well," Blaine began to say as he washed his hands, "I know we're not friends or anything, but I'm happy that I can help you find your happiness. I mean….even if Jeremiah marries Sebastian, I'll still pay you. I want to do that for you since you're doing so much for me."

Kurt smiled at the man. "Thank you. But, for your sake, I hope you do get him back. You seem to be a very…._dedicated_ guy and he would be lucky to have you."

"Thanks." Blaine replied as he dried his hands. "Ya know, Kurt, an eavesdropper may have thought that conversation was between two friends and not two business partners." He said as they walked out the door. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You wish, Anderson." The dancer laughed as they exited the bathroom. They were so enamored with their newfound understanding that neither man noticed Sebastian standing nearby. The young man wore the same meerkat expression that he knew Kalvin…or Kurt…or whomever, despised._ Oh, I can't wait to tell Jeremiah about this._ He shook his head. He wouldn't tell Jeremiah. It would be much more fun to watch whatever the situation was unfold naturally. _This is going to be great._

* * *

Kurt had a strange feeling that sat in his stomach as they finished dinner. Something was off. Years of being on his own honed his intuition to perfection and he knew when something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong…or off. He wasn't sure. He was sure, however, that Sebastian was different when they returned to their seats. Instead of the cocky, arrogant model they met the day before, he was suspicious and inquisitive. He asked questions that were extremely personal and inappropriate. "So, Blaine, I bet this one is hung." He said at one point.

The pharmacist nearly choked on his second glass of wine when he heard the question. He looked up with panicked eyes and saw the smirk on Sebastian's face. He also saw the amusement in Jeremiah's eyes. _Please tell me he didn't just ask that._

Kurt watched the exchange. Blaine looked like a deer in the headlights_. You should always help those less fortunate than yourself, Kurt. _He sighed. Apparently, his mother's voice wasn't going to leave him alone when it came to Blaine. "He doesn't kiss and tell, Sebastian." The model's head jerked towards Kurt and the dancer shot him a 'try me' look. Eventually, Sebastian relented and the foursome was able to enjoy the rest of their evening without much conflict.

* * *

Blaine put the car into park in Kurt's driveway and turned to face the dancer. "Thank you so much for helping me tonight. You were amazing. Now I know why you want to be a lesbian." Kurt face palmed. For someone that spent six years in school, Blaine was painfully uneducated in other aspects of life; specifically, life outside of the pharmacy.

"Thespian, Blaine, not lesbian." Kurt corrected. The pharmacist turned his head to hide his shame, but not before Kurt noticed the blush that crept slowly up his neck and settled on his cheeks.

"Yeah…that. Well, I see why you want to be one. You're really good at it."

"Thank you. This was actually fun. It was kind of like an acting exercise." Kurt replied.

The two sat in the silent car for a moment before Kurt decided to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Well, I guess I'll see you on Friday. Dinner at his parents' house, right?" Blaine nodded and watched Kurt get out of the car. When Kurt was half way to the door, the elder rolled down his window and shouted.

"Kurt," the dancer turned around and stared at him, "I know what you keep saying, but I kind of feel like we're becoming friends." Kurt let out a good natured sigh and shook his head.

"Not on your life, buddy. I told you I don't want to make any new friends until I get to New York." He replied.

Blaine shrugged. "You say that now, but I feel like I'm wearing you down."

Kurt giggled and waved him off. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt." Blaine put the car in reverse and backed out the driveway. On his way home, he realized that he was smiling. It was the first time he'd genuinely smiled in years.

* * *

**Tumblr: ThatBitchIsBorderling**

**Twitter: BritBojangles**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: i promised some of you a new chapter of ITHOTN but life happens. I couldn't seem to get my groove, so I decided to post this. I hope everyone affected by Hurricane Sandy is safe and sound. Continue to stay safe and sound and I will be pleased. :)**

**This chapter's song: Candy Shop - 50 Cent. **

* * *

Tuesday night, the night before Halloween and three nights before the dinner at Jeremiah's parent's house, Blaine found himself at Xcelerate. He and Kurt decided to have dinner after his shift to rework their story. After the almost fiasco with Sebastian , they did not want to risk anymore slip ups. So, they decided they should sit down and hash out the dirtier details; things that neither of them would know unless they were an actual couple; a loving couple.

Blaine sat in the front row and watched a girl swing around a pole. She made her way over to him a few times during her dance, but Blaine always ducked his head away and pulled out his phone. Eventually, she got the picture and turned her attention to other patrons of the club. _Thank goodness_. He thought as he slid his phone back into his pocket. _She's gone and Kurt will be out here soon._

He was relieved. These places were never his idea of a fun hangout spot, but Kurt made him feel more comfortable. It wasn't the fact that he and Kurt were getting to know one another –that was a farce as far as farces went- but it was just the way Kurt acted. He saved the pharmacist countless times during the first dinner and he was just nice to talk to. He was bubbly, and giggly, and everything that Blaine wanted in a friend. If only Kurt would stop holding out and actually be his friend.

"That was Bridget, an ex-cheerleader with some killer double joints." Artie, if Blaine remembered correctly, bellowed into the microphone from a booth upstairs. The crowd went wild. From the girl's pigtail to her bright smile, Blaine could imagine her as a cheerleader. "And up next, drum roll please," Blaine turned his attention to the stage. Kurt was up next; the buildup was enough to suggest as much, "the show stopping, jaw dropping, Kaaaaaaaaalvvvvvvvviiiiiiiii iiinnnnnnnnnnnn…" Before the emcee could finish the sentence, the audience went crazy.

Blaine watched in awe as the lights in the club dimmed from a pale yellow to black for a few moments. When the darkness lifted, Kurt was seated in folding chair on stage; dressed in a tiny candy striper short set and licking a giant round lollipop. It reminded Blaine of the lollipop his mother bought them on their family trip to Disney World. _Ohhh…I never did that with a lollipop._ Blaine thought as he watched his 'boyfriend' run his tongue along the surface of the sugary treat. _Nope. Never did that._

The beat of the song dropped so hard that it rattled the table. Blaine grabbed his glass of wine-anything else would be too much and he had an early shift the next morning- and held it so that it would not tip over. That would be a travesty.

_I'll take you to the candy shop  
I'll let you lick the lollipop  
Go 'head girl, don't you stop  
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (whoa)_

Kurt stood from his chair and sashayed across the stage. It was one of the things he did best. It was also something that drove the crowd wild. Blaine was certain that Kurt could make a night's worth of money simply by strutting his stuff for any and all onlookers. There was something about the confidence in his strut that commanded attention…and money.

Blaine watched the dollar bills fly as Kurt rolled his hips and traced the patterns of the hard candy with his tongue. The pharmacist loosened his neck tie. Suddenly, the room as very, very warm.

_I'll break it down for you now, baby it's simple  
If you be a nympho, I'll be a nympho  
In the hotel or in the back of the rental  
On the beach or in the park, it's whatever you into  
Got the magic stick, I'm the love doctor  
Have your friends teasing you 'bout how sprung I gotcha  
Wanna show me how you work it baby, no problem  
Get on top then get to bouncing round like a low rider_

Kurt strutted across the stage to Blaine's table and dropped to his knees. He stared at the audience innocently as he rolled his hips and licked his candy. _He's doing things to my lollipop that I've never had done to my lollipop. Wait that does not sound right. Never mind._

Kurt noticed the distant look on Blaine's face and crawled over to him. He took one last lick of the lollipop and held it in front of Blaine's face. 'Lick it' he mouthed. He watched as Blaine's eyes widened and an adorable blush crept up his face.

Blaine shook his head. He couldn't. That was a bit too…it was just too. Kurt nodded. In his mind, Blaine was too uptight; he was too sheltered. He needed to break out of his shell and he could start that process with a single action; a lick. Blaine shook his head again. Because, there was no way.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. The crowd ate it up. Before Blaine could fully process the scene, the audience began to boo loudly. He sighed and looked back up at the young boy; he barely looked old enough to be in a 30 mile radius of the seedy club. Kurt smiled. He won; he knew it. Without a second thought, the dancer held the lollipop back out.

Against his better judgment, Blaine leaned forward and ran his tongue over it. The moment only lasted a matter of seconds, but in those seconds, Blaine felt alive. For the first time in his entire life, he felt his heart beat in his chest. It was exhilarating.

_Give it to me baby, nice and slow  
Climb on top, ride like you in the rodeo  
You ain't never heard a sound like this before  
Cause I ain't never put it down like this before  
Soon as I come through the door she get to pulling on my zipper  
It's like it's a race who can get undressed quicker  
Isn't it ironic how erotic it is to watch em in thongs  
Had me thinking 'bout that ass after I'm gone_

The rest of the performance passed with barely an acknowledgment from the pharmacist. One minute, Kurt was dressed and grinding against the scuffed stage, the next, he was down to his underwear and strutting off stage.

"And coming to the stage we have…" Blaine shook his head to catch his bearings. When he heard Artie introducing another dancer, he gathered his wallet –_when did I pull that out? Am I missing $20? -_ and rushed out of the club. Kurt hated waiting, that much he knew, so he needed to reach the car first. He could do that.

* * *

Kurt rushed backstage after his routine and straight to Will's office. He paid out, always a daunting task, and then headed to the dressing rooms to wash the glitter off his face and to change his clothes. He and Blaine had a business dinner planned and he was starving. "Kurt, are you going out with Blaine tonight?" Rachel shouted from across the room.

Heads turned to face the young dancer, as if waiting for a reply and or an explanation. Kurt rolled his eyes. _Leave it Rachel to make it sound like I have a boyfriend._ "No, Rachel, I have a business dinner." He supplied as he pulled off the tiny underwear and tossed them on top of his performance shoes. He then wiped himself down with the damp wash cloth he grabbed on his way in. Being naked in front of the other dancers was never a big deal for him. He always thought of it as being unclothed backstage on Broadway. It came with the territory.

Once the sweat was gone from his body, Kurt pulled on a pair of boxers and his skinniest of skinny jeans. Paired with an oversized, Michael Kors cashmere sweater –purchased at a thrift store- and his favorite Doc Martins, Kurt was almost ready for his business dinner, almost. He could not go out in public with his 'I shake my ass for cash' hair. So, he headed to the backstage restroom to solve that issue.

Two hands full of wet fingers, half a can of hairspray, and a rat tailed comb later, Kurt's hair was perfectly coifed and he was ready to leave.

He gathered his things as quickly as possible from his station, waved goodbye to Rachel, and walked out the side door. From there, he could see Blaine waiting next to his Prius. Kurt bit back a giggle. He was not surprised to find out Blaine owned an environmentally friendly car. It was a safe choice and Blaine was a safe guy.

As he neared the car, Blaine waved. Politely, Kurt waved back. "Hey, stranger. Did you enjoy the show?" He asked as he walked to the passenger's side.

Blaine scowled but it faded quickly. "You shouldn't have put me on the spot like that." He chastised with a grin on his face.

With a faked look of shock on his face, Kurt gasped. "Oh…dear. I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" He joked as he opened the car door and plopped down inside. He heard Blaine chuckle as he climbed into the driver's seat and he knew all was well.

A short time later, Kurt and Blaine were seated in a window booth at Applebee's. Kurt loved Applebee's; he ate there with his parents every Friday night until his mother's death. His father was not able to step foot in the restaurant afterwards.

"So…where do we start?" Blaine asked as he dipped his mozzarella stick in the tiny dish of marinara sauce. "I mean, this is our second stab at this, so we have to get this right. Sebastian seemed a bit…suspicious the first time." Kurt nodded. The rat faced weasel did seem suspicious. He couldn't know anything though. There was no way.

Kurt shrugged as he sipped his water. "Okay, um…well, one thing I forgot to tell you last time is that my favorite movie is Harry Potter. That's kind of a big deal, and that is my fault." Blaine advised.

"Which one?" Kurt asked as he set his water back down on the table. Blaine tilted his head as if he was trying to remember the exact placement of every digit of Pi.

"All of them." He replied without another thought. He then took a bite of his mozzarella stick and smiled as the flavor filled his mouth.

Kurt stared at him skeptically. "All of them? I get that you like Harry Potter, but which is your absolute favorite? Mine is the one with Robert Pattinson. He looked scrumptious." Kurt's eyes rolled back. That was one of the few movies that Kurt thought the man looked good in.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "The Goblet of Fire? I liked that one, but…I mean…the thing about movies is that they can stray so far from the book and-" Kurt cut him off quickly.

"No, no. We're not spending this dinner going over the discrepancies between books and movies." He chastised as he reached for his own mozzarella stick. That was too friend, and or, real date like for his taste. Blaine sank back and blushed. He usually had no problem keeping his Potter loving side under wraps, but….life. "But, I will keep that in mind." There was a mischievous look that passed over Kurt's face and it frightened Blaine a bit. _What is he thinking?_

Kurt realized quickly that he had an audience and his smirk grew. He had an idea; a great idea. But that was something to think about at another time. Dinner was not about future plans, it was about strategy. "Okay, so what is your favorite movie?"

"Moulin Rouge." Kurt replied promptly. Blaine grinned. It made sense.

"An epic love story between a performer and a writer; I can see why you like that movie."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't like it. I _love_ it. It's so beautiful and romantic. It's….it's…everything you could want in a movie." He gushed. Blaine rested his chin in his palm and watched Kurt eager eyes. Kurt went on and on about the beauty of the movie and Blaine smiled and nodded in response. The only time he saw Kurt look so enthused was when he discussed New York. "I'm sorry. I get kind of excited when I talk about it."

Blaine smiled and waved his hand. "It's quite alright. It's nice to see you opening up for me." _Oh, that didn't sound right. _

"It's for business purposes only." Kurt replied. _Nope. That didn't sound right either._

* * *

Dinner continued at a comfortable pace. They ate and shared facts about themselves. Kurt found out that Jeremiah was Blaine's first and only and Blaine found out that Kurt was saving himself for whomever. "That's great, Kurt. I wish more people would consider saving themselves for someone that mattered because they matter." _You matter, Kurt._ The performer felt the sides of his mouth twitch upwards. His father told him that once and he never forgot it. "A guy said that to me once; a customer. He was actually one of my first regular customers after I got out of school." Kurt tilted his head as if interested, so Blaine continued. "In our first encounter, he actually insulted me."

_It was his second week on the job and the senior pharmacists were giving him grief. He couldn't seem to do anything right. Try as he might, he seemed to mess things up. Then, on top of all that, he found out that Jeremiah cheated on him again. "He was just a bartender at Scandals." He said before Blaine left for work. Jeremiah did not seem to understand that the guy was not just the bartender at Scandals to his husband. He was the millionth customer on the 'Free Rides Here' express. _

Kurt giggled despite the depressing content of Blaine's story. Blaine chuckled as well. It was kind of funny; kind of.

_Blaine loved him though. Blaine loved him more than he ever loved anything in his life. After a particularly trying day behind the pharmacy counter, Blaine took an early lunch. Jeremiah was supposed to meet him and they were meant to discuss his infidelity. Blaine was not excited but he did not let that show. He needed Jeremiah to understand his point of view and that would not happen if he was hostile. _

_Blaine sat on the tiny brick wall behind the pharmacy and enjoyed his lunch; a bologna sandwich, sans crust, with a dab of mayonnaise. It was Blaine's version of normal. He liked normal. _

_Jeremiah's car pulled up just as Blaine was wiping his fingers on the napkin he packed in his lunch bag. As usual, they fought. Jeremiah pled his case and Blaine pled his own. "Jer, you have to understand why this hurts me. I love you so much and you just do these things." The young pharmacist's eyes shone with unshed tears. He willed himself not to cry as he spoke but he was not able to control the break in his voice. _

_Jeremiah rolled his eyes, he always felt Blaine was a bit dramatic, and assured the man that he loved him as well. "You know it'll always be you, babe. Always." Blaine nodded. He knew that deep down. He knew Jeremiah loved him. "Besides, we haven't done anything since you started this job. You're always tired and I'm a man with needs." _

_Blaine looked at his husband and sighed. "I know, Jer. I'll…I don't know…we'll work at it. Okay?" Jeremiah grinned- it was never hard to get Blaine back on his side- and kissed his husband's forehead. "I'll see you tonight." He whispered before walking away. Blaine shot him a watery smile before plopping back down on the wall. He was exhausted and he still had half a shift remaining. _

_Blaine sat in silence for a moment, only the sound of the wind and honking automobiles to keep him company, and thought about his marriage. He liked being married, but he did not like being cheated on. Because, really, who did? Just as he was about to give up on trying to crack the complex code that was the Anderson-Myers matrimony, he heard a whistle; it started high and lasted longer than expected. "I hope my kid isn't like you when he's an adult." An older man in a baseball cap quipped as he walked near the brick wall. _

_Blaine made a face. When the man was close enough to hear, the pharmacist responded. "Why? Because I have a husband?" The man rolled his piercing, blue eyes –yes, Blaine had noticed. Eyes were his thing.- and took a seat next to the young man. _

"_Oh, please. I've got a 14 year old at home right now and I'm 72 percent sure he's as queer as Dennis Rodman." The man replied. _

_Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. "Dennis Rodman isn't gay." _

"_Not that you know of." That made Blaine laugh. It felt good to laugh. "See, I made you smile. I wasn't talking about you being gay though. I was talking about you being an idiot. That man doesn't respect you, yet you fall at his feet. It's a damn shame." The man replied as he tightened his grip on the tiny white bag that more than likely held a prescription. _

_Blaine went to defend himself, but the man cut him off. "That's the problem with you kids these days. You want everything and you're willing to do anything to get it. Like my son. He's willing to eat nothing but this weird, bushy, green stuff-"_

_The pharmacist cut him off. "Broccoli?" _

_The man shrugged. "Whatever, I don't know. Anyways, he's willing to eat nothing but this stuff to fit into a pair of jeans that he bought two sizes too small. When I asked him why he bought the pants so small, he said that they were the last pair in the store and that he couldn't wait for another shipment of 'em. And that's another thing," Blaine felt a rant coming and he still had no idea how this man's son's too small jeans pertained to his unfaithful husband. Thank God there were other pharmacists inside, so they wouldn't notice if he was gone a while longer. It's not like he was doing a good job anyways. "you kids spend hundreds of dollars on clothes. Literally. That day, my son bought 1 pair of pants and 2 shirts and it cost me almost $200. Do you know how many pairs of decent, long lasting Goodwill pants I can buy with that kind of money? Lots! I just don't understand your generation." He sighed. _

_Again, Blaine chuckled. "You said your son is 14. I'm 25, so I don't think we fall into the same generation. About the other thing though, my husband and I have a…complicated relationship." _

_The man nodded. "Yep. He treats you like shit and you take it. But the problem with that is the fact that you take it. I'm sure you don't know this but, you matter. He doesn't seem to understand that and you damn sure don't understand that, but you do. You matter, so start acting like it." Blaine felt the tears all over again. In his entire life, through thick and thin, nobody ever bothered to tell him that. Yet, there he was, sitting with a complete stranger, being told that he mattered. Needless to say, he was emotional. _

_Before Blaine could think of a response, the man was on his feet. "So, you work here?" He asked. Well, that was a swift change of topic. Blaine nodded and advised that he was a new pharmacist. "Good. So, wanna tell me about these pills?" The man held out the bag for Blaine to take. _

_Bag in hand, Blaine dug out the amber bottle and read over the label. "Well, um, Mr. Hummel, it's an ACE Inhibitor-"_

_Mr. Hummel shook his head. "Don't know what that means." Blaine smirked. _

"_It's for high blood pressure. Just, take it as the label instructs and see your doctor if you have any adverse side effects. They can change it if necessary." Mr. Hummel nodded and asked for a list of side effects. After Blaine instructed him of the list printed in the drug pamphlet that came with the medication, he listed off common side effects. _

"_Great, well, I guess I kind of need this then." Mr. Hummel said as he grabbed the bag from Blaine's outstretched hand. "If I die from high blood pressure, my kid will kill me." _

_The two shared another laugh. Yeah, Blaine liked laughing again. "So, Mr. Pharmacist, who do I need to ask for when I come in this place? You seem nice enough and you've got enough information under that hair helmet to make sure I'm getting the right stuff." _

_Blaine patted his hair subconsciously. "Umm…Anderson. Blaine. Blaine Anderson." He stammered. Mr. Hummel chuckled again and held out his hand. _

"_Well, Anderson, Blaine. I'm Hummel-"_

"Burt." Blaine jumped at the sound of Kurt's voice. He'd almost forgotten he had an audience. _Wait…how did he?_ "Burt Hummel was his name." When Blaine looked up, he noticed the way the light hit Kurt's eyes. From the angle he sat at, it looked as if they were swimming. But why?

"How did you know that?" He asked. He watched as Kurt lulled his head backwards and stared absently at the ceiling.

"Because he was my dad."

* * *

**A/N: Please let me know what you think. Let me know what you ink of the Hummel/Anderson history (if you can call it that). Let me know what you think of the story. Let me know what you think of whatever. Also, I'm looking for songs for upcoming chapters. Feed. Me. More...(ideas)! (I will update whatever story you'd like if you can name that reference.) Thank you to everyone that reads and reviews, alerts, and favorites. YOU guys are who I do this for. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for reading, reviewing, the works. You guys are all super amazing. Like always, I love my beta (ImAGleek5) to pieces. **

**Warning: I own nada. Also, Santana makes a comment later in the story that can be construed as offensive. Read with caution. We all know how Santana can be. ;)**

**Chapter song: Poison – Nicole Scherzinger (honey, thank you for the song idea! I see Juicy in your future!)**

* * *

"And he knew my dad, Rachel. He knew my dad." Kurt exclaimed as he plopped down on the old couch in his childhood home. Dinner did not end as pleasantly as it started. He was not sure if it was the fact that he was still deeply affected by the loss of his father or the knowledge that his father gave him speech after speech about how much he mattered because of his now fake boyfriend. The dancer remembered those conversations.

"_When you start dating, son, don't stay with someone that doesn't respect you. You're better than that."_

"_Sometimes you have to let something go to better yourself. You come first, Kurt; you matter."_

Kurt sighed and turned to his best, and only, friend. She smiled. "I'm sure he was excited to find out that you were Burt's son. You said he wanted to be friends. Now you guys have something in common. Friendship is just around the river bend." Then she broke into a song.

_I look once more__  
__Just around the riverbend__  
__Beyond the shore__  
__Where the gulls fly free__  
__Don't know what for__  
__What I dream the day might send__  
__Just around the riverbend__  
__For me__  
__Coming for me_

Only Rachel. Kurt thought. "Well, _Rachel_," he took care to emphasize her name in an attempt to get her attention, "I kind of walked out after the story, so I didn't get an opportunity to watch his eyes light up over our new found connection." He spat the words out as if they were poison. Rachel held up her hands in surrender.

"I'm just saying; you're pushing away a really nice guy for no reason at all."

"I'll tell you like I told Blaine. Friendships are like poison. It seeps through your veins and kills you slowly; just like friends do." Kurt let out a dark chuckle at the look of shock that passed over the girl's face. "Calm down, Rachel. You're practically my sister; way more important than a friend."

The young woman looked pleased. "Good then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few errands to run and you have to leave for work. You can't afford to be late."

"You can't afford to be late." Kurt mocked as he stood up from the couch. He gave Rachel a hug and watched her walk out the front door. Then, much to his own dismay, he was left alone with his own thoughts.

* * *

Blaine walked to the drop off window and dropped the tiny blue basket on the counter. It rattled loud enough to startle the intern, who was working diligently at her station. She turned her head and stared at the pharmacist. He stared back. "Is there a reason we didn't run this through her insurance. I just got my rear chewed by this woman because we didn't handle this properly." The intern, Harmony, stared at him with wide eyes. Blaine was a mild tempered man. He never raised his voice and he certainly never got angry. She was oblivious as to how to handle the situation

."Ummm…"

"Umm?" He repeated. "Let me ask you this. Do you have $500 to pay for a month's worth of medication?" Timidly, Harmony shook her head. "Neither does she." He insisted. "So fix this!" The intern took the medication and used the information to pull up the patient's records. She was a bit frazzled due the encounter but no one was going to hold her back from finishing her internship; not even Blaine.

Quinn, who watched the exchange from her station, saw a side of her friend that she'd never seen before. He seemed tense and frustrated. She had to figure out what was going on. So, when Blaine returned to his station, she whispered to him. "Hey, what's wrong, Blainey?"

"Don't call me that!" He snapped; his eyes never leaving his computer screen.

She rolled her eyes and tried again. "Fine, _Blaine_." She enunciated his name. "What's wrong? You seem tense." All at once, his shoulders sagged and his face fell. He was tense. Dinner ended up being a disaster and that scared him.

"Kurt freaked out on me last night." He finally replied.

"Who?"

"Kalvin."

"Ohhh…"

"Yeah. Remember Burt Hummel that used to tell me that Jeremiah was a jerk? The guy that used to complain about how much money his son spent on clothes?" Quinn nodded. She remembered. He was a kind, older man that frequents their pharmacy. Some days, he spent hours there telling them stories about his son and asking for advice about how to coax him into coming out.

"_I was thinking, I could watch that show 'Queer as Folk' with him. I'll just be like, 'hey, they're gay. That's cool'. And he'll tell me he's gay." Burt suggested._

_Blaine, who was lead pharmacist for the day, and Quinn, who was acting as his relief, snorted in response. When Burt tilted his head, obviously confused, Quinn responded. "Trust me, Burt. You don't want to watch that show with your teenage son. It could get….awkward."_

"_Oh…" Burt looked put out. "I guess it's back to the drawing board then." The pharmacists nodded at the man. He definitely needed to go back to the drawing board._

"What ever happened to him? He just stopped coming." Quinn asked as she checked another prescription. The pharmacy was slow but that didn't mean there weren't prescriptions to be checked.

Blaine sighed and turned to look at his friend. "He died and he was Kurt's father. When I told Kurt the story on how I met him, he just…I don't know. It was weird. First, he just stared. Then he told me that Burt was his father. Then, he just stood up and walked out. I tried to run after him but he was gone. I don't even know how he got home. Now, he won't return my calls and….Quinn," the girl's head turned towards her friend when he said her name, "I need Kurt. I can't do this without him. I just…I need him, Quinn."

Quinn pushed her reading glasses further up her nose –_I didn't need glasses until I started Pharmacy school_- and turned to her friend. "You're overreacting, B." She insisted. "He was probably shocked out of his mind when he found out that you knew his father and he freaked. Give him some time. Obviously the wounds are still fresh and-"She stopped talking the moment she saw her. The waitress from the club. _Raven, if I remember her name correctly. _"Can I help you?" The blond asked as the bouncy brunette strode towards the counter. She smiled.

"Yes. Hello, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm looking for Blaine Anderson." She proclaimed proudly. Rachel. It wasn't what she expected but it was much more humanized than Raven. She watched as the girl, dressed far more tamely than she had been during their last encounter, turned to her colleague.

The lead stepped forward when he heard his name. "I'm Blaine Anderson. How can I help you?" He remembered Rav-Rachel –_I wish they would stick with one name-_ in the vaguest sense of the word. The young girl looked towards her and nodded.

"Yes you can help me. I just got a text from my friend, Kurt, asking me to come here and have you come to the club," she cupped her mouth and whispered the last two words, "tonight."

"Am I invited?" Quinn chimed. Rachel's head swung in her direction and the girl's giant brown eyes met Quinn's. The young woman flushed. _It's just warm in here. It's chilly outside right now and they have their heat up too high. _She tried to convince herself.

"Umm…if you want to." She all but whispered. Quinn, smug as ever smiled and nodded.

"We'll be there." She replied. Blaine gaped at her. Since when did he not get to make his own decisions? When Quinn noticed the look on her friend's face, her expression softened. "What?" She asked. "You were just telling me that you need to talk to him and now you've got the chance. You're welcome." She then turned back to Rachel. "We'll see you tonight, hon." Rachel smiled and nodded before bustling out of the tiny pharmacy.

Quinn watched her go. Blaine found it amusing. "Quinnie and Rachel sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He sang as he began to check prescriptions again. Late afternoon was upon them and that meant they were that much closer to the evening rush.

One thing that Blaine loved about Quinn was the fact that her laughter was contagious. Not long after she began to laugh at his childish song, he began to laugh as well. "If I'm lucky, it'll be more like F-U-C-K-I-N-G." Blaine stopped laughing immediately and glared playfully at his friend.

"Great way to take something adorable and turn it into something sexual, Santana." He chided.

Quinn gasped dramatically. "Ouch, B." She held a hand to her heart and fanned offense. Blaine smiled and shrugged. Honestly, he didn't care if she was offended. Kurt wanted to see him. That was a good thing, right?

* * *

Kurt covered his torso, chest, and shoulders with a light sheen of glitter. It was the final touch he needed to offset his routine for the evening. When he was finished, he stepped back and checked himself in the mirror. _Perfect._ He tossed the aerosol can into his bag and headed towards the stage. It was almost show time.

Not too long ago, the young man sat in his truck thinking. He thought about Blaine and the situation at hand. Maybe he had overreacted at dinner. The fact that Blaine knew his father was not a bad thing. _Hell, the guy practically has a Burt Hummel stamp of approval on his ass._ He told himself. Burt always spoke highly of Blaine, even if Kurt hadn't known it at the time. So, what was the problem?

Lima. Lima, Ohio was the problem. Kurt still wanted to move. That, in his young mind, required him to keep ties to a minimum. The way it was, before Blaine, he had three main ties to the area; his two dead parents, who lay side by side in Woodlawn Cemetery, and Rachel, who was leaving with him. That was before though. Now, there was Blaine and Kurt was not sure how he felt about that. Not only was Blaine nice –and a bit misguided- but he was also caring and compassionate. Kurt Hummel circa two years ago would have killed for a friend like Blaine. But things changed; he changed. He wasn't the lonely high school kid with He was a young adult that needed to get away. Could he get away with a friend hot on his tail?

"Friendship is like a fine wine." Kurt's mother said to him one day as they played in her garden. He had just finished telling her about his 'unfortunate' run in with the new neighbor girl, Rachel, and his mother had a few choice words about it.

"It makes daddy act silly at weddings?" The child asked. His mother let out a hearty laugh; one that Kurt loved dearly. It was so fully of life and happiness. He was only five, but he'd convinced himself that based on her laugh, his mother was the happiest person on Earth.

"Well, that too." She began. She shifted on her knees and continued to tend to her plants as she spoke. "What I meant was; friendship is something that gets better with time. I'm sure if you give Rachel a chance, you'll see that she isn't that bad."

"She told me I can't be Belle anymore when we play 'Beauty and the Beast'. I was born to play Belle, mommy. She said I had to be Gaston. I don't like stupid Gaston." His mother narrowed her eyes and Kurt quickly apologized for his tongue slip. He knew stupid was a bad word but he was just so angry.

"You guys will figure it out. Give her a chance."

Give her a chance.

Give her a chance.

Give him a chance.

_Friendship is like fine wine._ The words rang through his head as he sat in the parking lot. Maybe he could give Blaine a chance. His dad liked him and he really was interesting.

The performer checked the clock on the dashboard. "Crap." He hissed as he grabbed his bag. He didn't have time to go talk to his 'boyfriend' but maybe he could get Rachel to invite him to the show while she was running her errands.

Kurt fired off a text message to Rachel, asking her to run by the pharmacy. He would have text Blaine himself but he wasn't sure how angry Blaine was about his storm off. Rachel responded that she would invite Blaine and Kurt was relieved. He had a new number in mind and he wanted to try it out.

* * *

Blaine and Quinn…and Santana because she invited herself –_"What is my night without watching some lovely ladies whose parents didn't love them enough?"- _sat front and center for each performance. For the most part, Quinn and Blaine chatted with Rachel as they enjoyed their wine. Santana was another story. "Come here, girl. Show me what you'll do for a few dollars." She shouted at the girl on stage.

The young woman, who seemed to be enjoying herself and the attention Santana was showering her with, complied. She strutted across the stage to the Latina and danced for what looked to be only her. Santana ate it up. The young doctor shouted and hollered as the dancer worked for every dollar she earned. When the song was finished, the girl threw a wink Santana's way and sashayed off stage. "As much as I'd love to stay here, I've gotta run." She said as she gathered her belongings. Blaine and Quinn simply stared at her.

"Where are you going?" Quinn finally asked. Santana stop repacking her giant purse and stared back at them. I thought that one was obvious.

"Umm..date. Duh!" It should have been obvious.

"Date? Why didn't you tell us you had a date?"

"Because I just got the date."

Quinn and Blaine looked towards the stage and then back at their friend. No way. "The dancer?" The male pharmacist asked incredulously.

"Don't make that face, Anderson. One, it makes you look like you've got a poopy in your pants. Two, you're dating a stripper," she emphasized the word, "so, I can too." With that, she turned and left; leaving her two closest friends stunned; which they both realized was ridiculous because it was Santana and nothing she did should have surprised them.

Blaine continued to watch the dancers work while Quinn continued her never ending conversation with Rachel about any and all things musical theatre. "I can't believe you saw Wicked the same weekend I did. That's amazing. My dad's took me and…we may have seen each other." Rachel, Raven as her nametag read, gushed.

"I know right." Quinn lied. Of course she'd seen Wicked on Broadway, but she'd lied through her teeth about the timeframe. Rachel didn't need to know that though. When Rachel named the date that she went, Quinn took that opportunity to build a fake connection between them. Rachel ate it up. "It's like we were meant to be or something." And God, she was laying it on thick. There was something about Rachel that she liked though.

They continued to chat until Blaine quieted them. Artie was in the process of introducing Kurt and the curtain was rising. The stage needed his undivided attention, not Quinn's libido.

Kurt was already down to his underwear, tiny, black, and sat perfectly low on his hips, and a pair of heeled, knee high boots. Blaine watched in awe as the young man twirled around the pole like he was born to do it.

_Got venom dripping from my lips  
Know who you're about to kiss  
Think that you can handle it, boy, it's on  
Just step into the danger zone  
Shake it if you wanna roll, never bend,  
Just take control, stakes are on_

Kurt placed his hand on the top of the pole and began to swing. He looked wobbly, as if he couldn't quite catch himself, but Blaine realized it was intentional when the man's legs wrapped around the pole. Kurt spun in perfectly timed circles. Then he let go. He leaned back and let his hands slip off the brass cylinder. He was held up only by only his perfectly toned legs. When did Blaine start noticing the tone of Kurt's legs? He shook his head to clear the thought._ I don't think about Kurt's legs._

_That bad girl power I got, I'll abuse it tonight  
Cause tonight got poison on my mind  
That power I got, you'll be mine when I strive, feel alive  
Got poison on my mind  
I got that poison (uh huh), I got that poison (uh huh)  
_I got that poison, that poison on my mind

Blaine smiled at the lyrics. He remembered the conversation vaguely. He remembered Kurt telling him that he viewed friendship as a 'special kind of poison'. Obviously, Kurt changed his mind. It made the pharmacist's heart swell. He loved new friends; so did Doo Wop. His dog acted like an excited puppy when he met new people. _Maybe because he is an excited puppy._

_So cool out, let her in the scene  
Cause tonight I need you clean  
My sexy little dirty scream, yeah, it's on  
And then I get you in my stream, play it hard to be extreme  
You're so cool, baby, you're so mean (Turn me on, turn me on)_

Kurt looked more like a professional dancer than a stripper. The crowd seemed to love it. Despite the lack overt sex appeal that Kurt usually dripped like sweat, the audience threw hard earned money on the stage like they hadn't worked all week to make it. Blaine watched the boy bend backwards, still swinging as he did, and grabbed near the base pole. His eyes widened as Kurt's right leg slipped from around the pole and his Right hand reached around to grab his ankle. Then, he continued to spin. He was held only by the appendages on the left side of his body. It was mystifying…and beautiful. The way Kurt's body held on when it seemed as if gravity should have pulled him to the ground was amazing. It made sense though. Of all the things Blaine knew about his friend –_yes, I can call him that because we're technically BFFS now_- he knew that Kurt had a way of staying up when gravity should have long pulled him down.

_That bad girl power I got, I'll abuse it tonight  
Got poison on my mind  
That power I got, you'll be mine, feel alive  
Got poison on my mind_

The young dancer finished his routine by sliding eloquently down the pole and dropping into a split. He tossed a wink over his shoulder before hoisting himself up and strutting off stage. The audience, including Blaine and Quinn from what he could tell, was sad to see him go.

* * *

"I thought you would have left with that girl." Kurt said as he padded across the empty parking lot; staying mindful not to stray too far from the street lights. The air was unusually warm for an October evening so he carried coat rather than wearing it.

Blaine shrugged and leaned back against his car. He contemplated camping out at Kurt's truck but decided against it. There was something oddly pristine about the old vehicle and he was hesitant to even breathe too closely to it. "She pretended to be stranded so your friend Rachel would take her home.

One of Kurt's perfectly manicured eyebrows shot up. "Rachel?" He asked.

The pharmacist nodded. "Quinn seems to be very taken by her."

"Until she gets to know her." The dancer mumbled. "So…what did you think about the performance?" The change in conversation seemed welcome by Blaine.

"It was great. You looked different up there. You weren't all sexy and…not saying that you're not sexy…well, not saying that I look at you like you're sexy." He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was flustered. Kurt giggled and urged him to continue. "You looked…like a stage performer…like someone who belonged on a huge stage and not one with a polished brass pole. There. That's what I was trying to say." He grinned a self-satisfied grin and waited for his friend –_again, we're BFFs now-_ to respond.

"Thanks. That's not what I meant though. I was asking about the song. I don't know if you remember that conversation we had but-"

"Of course I do. I felt the song choice was appropriate for our situation. I can't even begin to tell you how excited this situation makes me. Well, not excited like that. Not that you couldn't make someone excited like that. I mean…I love Jeremiah. Not that someone couldn't love you and.." Blaine continued to ramble for a moment.

"You really know how to make a guy feel good, Blaine." He mumbled. Blaine's face fell and he immediately began to apologize. Kurt sighed and held up a hand. "Listen, if we're going to be friends, you have to stop that. You can't just go around second guessing yourself. Grab your balls and stand tall. That's what my dad used to say."

Blaine's eyes widened. Kurt was a bit brash for his liking but that didn't kill the swell of excitement that surged through his chest every time he thought about what they were. _Friends. F is friends that do stuff together. Darn you, Spongebob. _"Ummm…yeah. So…do you want me to walk you to your car?" He asked once he'd gathered his composure. Kurt nodded. It would be nice to be walked to his car.

"You know, we missed dinner with Sebastian and Julius." The dancer said as they walked away from the Prius.

"Jeremiah," Blaine chided, "and I know. I told them you were sick and I couldn't bear to go without you." Blaine replied. He earned an audible gasp from the younger man.

"Y-you lied? Oh no! Someone call the Vatican. This outlaw just broke a commandment." He joked. Blaine rolled his eyes and continued across the parking lot. "One thing you're going to have to realize about me is that I joke around a lot with my friends."

Blaine nodded. "I can live with that." He could. He liked a joke from time to time and Kurt seemed nice enough. "Doo Wop can too." And thus it began. Blaine went on and on about his puppy and Kurt groaned playfully at each detail. _If he pulls up pictures of his dog on his phone, I'm done._ "Oh and let me show you this picture I have of him on my phone. He was playing with a ball of yarn like a cat and…" Kurt wasn't done though. _Friendship is like fine wine._ He reminded himself. _Friendship is like fine wine._

* * *

**A/N: Damn, it took them a long time to cross that parking lot. So…what did we think? If you've never checked out lethalblonde0911 on Youtube, then you should. I based Kurt's dance off her work. I wanted it to be sensual but not overly sexual. It was his way of extending an olive branch to Blaine without screaming 'fuck me'. Did it work? Ehhh? Hope so. Read and review please? Por favor?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hiya. How are you all? Great? Freaking good. Here's another chapter for ya. Enjoy. : )**

**Quick thanks to all my readers and my lovely beta (ImAGleek5). I totally sent this to her an hour ago and she had it back almost an hour ago. She works fast, yall!**

**Warnings: Santana. **

* * *

Kurt had a dayshift. What a wonderfully horrible ending to a wonderfully horrible day. First, one of his instructors pulled him aside and asked him the most ridiculous of questions. "You don't want to do this for the rest of your life, do you?" The young student was flabbergasted.

"Excuse me?" He asked; his voice carried enough for a few students at nearby stations to turn and stare. The instructor quickly shooed them back to their work and turned back to the young man.

She smiled. "When I look at the other people in that room, I see a group of people that honestly believe that they'll spend the rest of their lives doing hair. They're happy about that prospect. I don't see that in you, Kurt. I see a young man who's doing this so that he has something to do." Damn.

"Well, I…"

The instructor held up her hand and shook her head. "I'm not saying you should stop doing this, Kurt. I'm just saying that you need to focus on your priorities. I've heard you talking to that annoying girl and I know that you have bigger dreams than that of a cosmetologist."

"There's nothing wrong with cosmetologists. It's respectable career choice." He defended.

"True." She agreed with him. "But it's only respectable if it's what you want to do. I see bigger and better things in your future, Kurt. I think you should consider putting effort into those things before the next 4 week module starts."

"But I've already come this far and…"

"And you haven't paid for the next module, so you can always back away. Besides, I looked into it and you'd have to have more credit hours to do hair in New York. That would mean more schooling. Do you really want to waste your time doing more schooling for this when you could be preparing for something else; something bigger?"

Needless to say, Kurt left school with a headache and a heavy heart. He had no idea what he wanted. He loved doing hair, of that he was sure, but he did not think that he wanted to endure another year or so of school in order to practice in New York? _Ummm….HELLL NOOOOO!_ He was at yet another fork in the road and he didn't know which one to take. Should he say screw finishing school and begin working on audition pieces for the various theatre companies and wandering shows in New York –probably- or should he get ready to saddle up from another round of classes in beautify school –probably. He was so confused.

His day did not get much better once he was out of school. The fact that he had a string of messages from Will demanding that he work a day shift only heightened his frustrated mood. _Oh well. You get you get and you don't throw a fit. _He thought as he hopped into a car. Yet again, his mother's advice would get him through the day.

* * *

Kurt peeked around the corner and cringed. There were literally 3 people in the audience; an overweight man in a dirty Ohio State shirt, a skinny man in a suit that was at least 2 sizes too big, and a man with a hoodie pulled over his face. The performer shuddered. God, he didn't want to perform for them.

That was what life was about though. He had to perform whether he wanted to or not. _The show must go on, right?_

"Let's give a warm welcome to Xcelerate's own…Kallllvinn Climbs." The MC –not Artie, much to Kurt's disdain- bellowed. Kurt rolled his eyes at the dry applause he received. _God, I hate working days_.

He would give them the best show possible though. That's what he did. So, when the beat dropped, he stepped onto the stage, dressed as the dirtiest of police officers (_not a real officer, real officers don't wear tiny underwear as pants. Well, that guy on Reno 911 does but…he doesn't count_), and gave his tiny audience the best show of their lives.

* * *

_**You make me this, bring me up, bring me down, plays it sweet**_

_**Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.**_

_**Makes me this, brings me up, brings me down, plays it sweet  
Makes me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.  
You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, plays it sweet  
Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.  
Makes me, this brings me up, brings me down, plays it sweet  
Makes me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.  
**_

Kurt sashayed across the stage, pointing his imitation Billy club at each of the members of the audience. Two of his three patrons cheered when he pointed the object at them. The performer didn't let the 3rd man's unresponsiveness deter him. He had a show to put on.

_**Oh oh oh oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...  
Oh oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...  
Oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...  
Oh oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...  
**_

The performer rolled his hips to the beat of the music as he slid the prop down his body. Thankfully, the tiny audience loved it and they were throwing their wadded up money at him. At least he wouldn't go home empty handed.

As the chorus repeated once again, Kurt began to unbutton his shirt. Everyone, except the man in the back with hoodie over his head, stood up and walked closer to the stage. They watched hungrily as Kurt's nimble fingers loosened each button.

_**Mr. Saxobeat, Mr. Saxobeat.  
Hey sexy boy, set me free, don't be so shy, play with me  
My dirty boy, can't you see, that you belong next to me.  
Hey sexy boy, set me free, don't be so shy, play with me  
My dirty boy, can't you see, you are the one for meeeee.**_

Once the shirt was undone, Kurt did a few twirls and dropped into a split. The men in the room shouted for more. So, Kurt gave it to them. Still in his split, Kurt shrugged off the shirt and tossed it towards the unresponsive man in the back. The man caught it. Kurt watched as the man stood from his seat and sauntered towards the stage.

With the song still playing, Kurt had to tear his eyes away from the man in favor of finishing his routine. It was difficult, however. There was something about the way the man swaggered towards the stage that was oddly familiar to the performer.

_**You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, plays it sweet  
Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.  
Makes me, this brings me up, brings me down, plays it sweet  
Makes me move like a freak.  
You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, Mr. Saxobeat.  
You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, Mr. Saxobeat.**_

Kurt finished the song with another split in front of the patrons that actually paid for the show; ignoring the hooded man completely. Just as he was getting up, the man walked over to him and tossed him a few bills. The dancer faltered for a moment but scooped the money from the floor none the less. New York isn't going to pay for itself.

When he returned to the backstage area, he unfolded each of his bills and counted. $47. It would have been a waste if his mother hadn't taught him any better. _Every penny counts, honey. Yeah right._ Just as he was about to pack his things away, he remembered the bills that the hooded man had tossed him. He'd set them aside because they already looked flat, thus there was no need for him to flatten them underneath old text books that he'd never returned to the school as he did the crumpled money that he usually received.

As quickly as he could, the dancer grabbed the notes from the end of his station. He gasped. He hadn't noticed before that they were folded up $20s. That was a nice surprise. He got another surprise when he unfolded them.

There, written in red marker across the front of the top bill, was a message.

'Figure you'll need this once you're alone.'

* * *

Spending time with Kurt over the past few weeks was heavenly for Blaine. He'd never had a real, guy friend. Before his marriage, guys usually didn't hang out with him because of his sexuality –_their loss_- and afterwards, he spent most of his time with his husband, thus not having time to meet other guys. So, it was a welcome change to have a guy in his life that he wasn't romantically linked to. It was different; in a good way. And Blaine was grateful.

As days went by, Blaine was more and more grateful for Kurt's presence. The day that Jeremiah called and invited them to his and Sebastian's 'Big Gay Thanksgiving Extravaganza', Blaine was very grateful. He wasn't as grateful for the invitation –he was still hopelessly in love with Jeremiah, who was still engaged to Sebastian - as he was for Kurt's response. His friend was all for it.

The evening of the dinner, Blaine stood aside as Kurt dressed and groomed him for the evening. They wore matching outfits that Kurt picked out and Blaine paid for, and brought a homemade apple pie that Kurt slaved over earlier that morning.

Dinner went well, at least in Blaine's opinion. Midway through the meal, the pharmacist felt something rub against the side of his leg. When he looked beneath the table, he saw that his ex-husband's foot was rubbing shamelessly against his leg. The young man blushed; Jeremiah had a way of making him do that. When he looked up, he was met by a very smug Jeremiah. Blaine's cheeks flushed harder. God he'd missed Jeremiah's touch. So, he left his leg just as it was and allowed the man to rub his foot against it. _Best dinner ever._

What Blaine didn't know was that Kurt watched the entire scene. He also didn't know about the tiny pang of ….something…. that shot through Kurt's chest every time Blaine shot his ex a shy smile.

* * *

"I freaking hate that guy! He spent all night just…..staring at me like I did something wrong. He doesn't know me though. I will drag him through a parking lot by his Zack Morris hair." Kurt shouted as they stomped towards Blaine's Prius.

Blaine, who still wasn't sure what Kurt was talking about, remained silent as his friend ranted. "All throughout dinner. He stared at me the entire time like he had something to say. I hate that. If you have something to say, then say it. Don't shoot me pissy little glances like I'm supposed to know what they mean." Kurt climbed into the unlocked car and slammed the door behind him. With a sigh, Blaine climbed in as well. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Kurt was kind of ruining his good mood.

"Who are we talking about?" He finally asked as they backed out of the restaurant parking lot. He kind of hoped they were talking about Jeremiah because that meant that Jeremiah was jealous and jealousy meant that he still had feelings for Blaine.

"Sebastian." Kurt screeched. "He spent the entire night giving me these_ looks_ as if I would hesitate to put a bitch in his place. But, I'm sure you didn't notice because you were too busy playing footsy with your ex." Blaine eyes widened but they did not leave the road. There was something in Kurt's voice that almost sounded hurt. Almost. On the surface, it was accusatory but just beneath the accusation was a tiny bit of hurt. Blaine heard it.

"Yeah. I mean…he was kind of….and….I don't know. I liked it. He hasn't flirted with me in ages and….it was nice. Super nice." Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I thought you wanted him to break up with Sebastian before you tried to get back together."

The pharmacist shrugged. He really didn't care how it happened, as long as it happened. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's changed."

Kurt scoffed. "Changed? I don't see how he's changed. Isn't flirting with another guy while he's tied to yet another guy exactly what he was doing before?"

Blaine slammed on the breaks and turned towards his friend. He was shocked. There was nothing about the two situations that were similar. He and Jeremiah had history, unlike Jeremiah and Sebastian. They'd been married. By default, marriage meant that there were a lot more feelings between them. Sure, Jeremiah and Sebastian were_ getting_ married, but they hadn't taken the leap yet. "It's different." He advised with a confident squaring of his shoulders.

Again, Kurt scoffed. "Yeah right. He's buttering you up while his fiancé is sitting not two feet from him. That's no different than him flirting with a waitress while you scan the menu. Face it, Blaine, he hasn't changed and now you're playing the role of his all too willing side piece."

"You know what," Blaine shouted. He was having such a good evening; it was a shame it had to end that way. "If you didn't want to be a part of this, then you didn't have to be. You knew what I wanted when this started and you agreed. So don't chastise me now." Kurt huffed and sat back in his seat. After a moment, Blaine restarted the car and drove towards the man's house. Neither spoke a word the entire trip.

As he slid the car into park, Blaine turned and looked at his friend. He seemed contemplative. "Look, I'm…" He began. It didn't take long for Kurt to cut him off.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I knew what this was before it started, I just….I don't want you to get your heart broken. It's only been a few weeks, but I care about you, Blaine. And, I can only see this ending badly for you."

"I'm sorry too, for yelling at you. I shouldn't have. Honestly, I knew you were right. I just want this to work so badly. I mean…I love him so much-"

"Does he deserve your love?" It was a simple question –five words- but it seemed so hard to answer. Did Jeremiah deserve his love? _Probably not_. Did Jeremiah have it anyways? _Obviously._ "I'll take your silence as a no. That's okay though. Sometimes we love people who don't deserve it. That's part of learning and growing."

"Let me guess, your mother told you that at one point in time?" Kurt nodded. She had. It was right after Kurt announced his hopeless love and devotion for Nick Lachey just after his 7th birthday. "It's hard to turn off that love though. Ya know, to let it go?"

"I _don't _know, because I've never been in love; real love. I can only imagine how difficult it is to realize the person you love isn't the person you want them to be." The two sat with their thoughts for a moment. It was Kurt that broke the silence this time. "What are you doing for Christmas? It's coming up soon and…just what are you doing?"

With a shrug, Blaine turned away from his friend. "Quinn, Santana and I usually get drunk at my house and have an 'Orphan's Christmas' together. Our parents aren't really around and we're all only children so…." He trailed off lamely with another shrug.

"Well," Kurt began just as his hand reached the door hand, "why don't you guys join some real orphans for Christmas. Rachel and I usually deck the house out and sing loud and obnoxiously."

Blaine's face fell. "Crap. I hadn't considered the fact that you guys are real…I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. Do you guys wanna come?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "Well, I know _I_ want to come but-"

"That's what she said."

"I'll have to ask Santana and Quinn." He was learning not to let Kurt's little remarks deter him from his original thought pattern.

The performer clasped his hands together and beamed. "Great. In fact, you guys should sleep over and we'll open presents Christmas morning. It'll be great!" Blaine nodded. That sounded wonderful.

"Great, well, I are you still coming to my show tomorrow night?" Another nod. "Yay. So, I'll see you tomorrow and then-"

"Harry Potter marathon at my house." Kurt reached over and gave his friend a hug. He was so excited. Blaine was the first real male friend he'd ever had and it was nice to do things with someone other than Rachel.

"So excited. I'll see you then." With that, he flung his car door open and hopped out of the car. Blaine sat back and watched the man go. For the first time since he'd met Kurt, he noticed something._ Kurt is absolutely adorable when he's excited. _

* * *

Kurt walked out on stage before Artie could announce him. The crowd –including Blaine, Santana, and Quinn- was tastefully surprised. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." He purred into the microphone. The crowd went crazy. From every direction, hoots and hollers sounded towards the stage. The performer soaked them up. _Sometimes, I love my job. I've got people shouting at me just as it should be. Maybe it's this get up. I mean, a black, spandex body suit with a million buttons can be hot. I guess._

"Now, we all know Xcelerate has a strict 'don't touch the merchandise' policy, right?" Boos rang out in room. Kurt held a finger to his lips to silence the crowd. Their jeers quieted instantly. "Don't fret my friends. What they don't know won't hurt them and….I think I see a few rule breakers in here tonight." Kurt shot a wink in Santana's direction –_that girl loves to touch_- before handing the microphone to a stage hand and indicating to Artie that he was ready.

_**I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons babe  
But you keep frontin'  
Sayin' what you gon' do to me  
But I ain't seen nothin'  
**_

Kurt went straight for the kill. Rather than starting out slow, the performer sunk to his knees and crawled to the stage. Instinctively, much the same way a dog would sniff out food; he located the customer with the most money and made his way towards him. A semi attractive man with gray hair held up a few hundred dollar bills and Kurt ground and shimmied just enough to pull those bills out of the man's grasp. It was like a super power.

_**Typical and hardly  
The type I fall for  
I like it when the physical  
Don't leave me askin' for more**_

_**I'm a sexy mama  
Who knows just how to get what I wanna  
What I wanna do is bring this on ya  
Back up all the things that I told ya**_

As he worked across the stage, unbuttoning the million and one buttons on his outfit, Kurt's hips and body moved along with the music. Sensual energy oozed out of his pores as the music played. Of all the songs he'd ever danced too, he definitely felt sexiest dancing to this one. That was an odd feeling. Kurt never felt sexy. But he did tonight. He had the music to thank for that. "Take off your fucking clothes. Auntie Snix wants to see your peaCOCK!"

And Santana. She started shouting the moment he started performing and that definitely made him feel sex. _Speaking of…_

Kurt crawled across the stage floor to his friends' table. Santana was out of her seat before he was at the midway point. "Come on, honey." She purred as he got closer. From the corner of his eye, Kurt could see Blaine shaking his head. He was red as a beet and obviously embarrassed. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Santana was having a good time and Kurt wanted Blaine to have a good time as well. So, once he was close enough to the edge of the stage, he hopped off and climbed into his friend's lap.

_**You've been sayin'  
All the right things all night long  
But I can't seem to get you over here  
To help take this off  
**_

"Kurt! What are you doing?" Blaine asked in a harsh whisper. Kurt chuckled and ground his hips down. Honestly, he couldn't answer that question. There were a million ways to help Blaine have a good time but, for the life of him, he couldn't think of any but the one he'd chosen.

Kurt shimmied in Blaine's lap for a moment before grabbing the man's hand. He could feel all eyes in the room on him but he didn't care. He'd already taken the leap; there was no turning back.

_**I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons babe  
But you keep frontin'  
Sayin' what you gon' do to me  
But I ain't seen nothin'**_

He guided his friend's hand to one of the few buttons that was still done on his outfit, just above his navel, and used the man's fingers to undo it. The crowd went crazy. "Get it together, Blaine. Take his damn clothes off!" It was Quinn that shouted. That was unexpected.

Once the button was undone, Kurt guided his friend's hand down to undo another one, just below his navel. This time, Blaine didn't need any help. He undid the next by himself. He watched intently as the fabric stretched away from the resistance of the fastened buttons. The black material stretched and strained against Kurt's abdomen in a way that made Blaine's pants tight; unbelievable tight.

_**You say you're a big boy  
But I can't agree  
'Cuz the love you said you had  
Ain't been put on me**_

Eventually, Blaine was able to tear his eyes away from his friend's midsection. Slowly, he let his eyes drift up the expanse of his friend's exposed chest and to his neck. He'd never noticed Kurt's neck before. It looked soft in places but defined it others. Even more slowly than before, Blaine's eyes trailed past Kurt's defined jaw, his soft lips, and finally to his eyes. He held the man's gaze for a moment before realizing his situation.

"Get up." He whispered; just loud enough for Kurt to hear him. Kurt's eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed. He was confused. "Get up. Get up. I need you to get up." Blaine rushed. Kurt nodded dumbly and stood up from the seat. In a flash, Blaine was out of his seat and headed towards the front door.

The performer stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room as the music continued to play. _Too far?_ He asked himself. "Just because he didn't want it doesn't mean that I don't." Santana shouted, gaining his attention. With all eyes on him, Kurt strutted over the girl and allowed her to loosen the rest of his buttons.

When the song was over and Blaine hadn't returned, Kurt realized that he'd gone too far. Fuck. He thought as he packed his bag that evening. This is why I never have guy friends. I always make them uncomfortable.

Kurt finished packing his bag and exited the club before closing hours. Just as he was about to climb in his father's truck, he noticed a man standing towards the entrance of the club, watching him. It was the man with the hood from a few days ago. Kurt would recognize that hoodie anywhere; a red Hollister zip up.

The dancer waved. There were tons of people around, so he felt safe. The man nodded in response and turned back towards the club. Kurt shrugged. There wasn't much else to do. _Well, not if you don't count the fact that I have to find Blaine and apologize. Scratch that. This is a lot to do._

* * *

**A/N: I know I stole the 'rule breaker' line straight from 'Magic Mike'. I'm not ashamed. I know Kurt's 1****st**** dance was a little…ehhh…but it was a day shift, so he didn't want to bust out any big guns. Also, this story isn't like ITHOTN so the hooded man poses no _real_ danger. I figured you guys should know that. Guesses on who it is? I'm sure you all already know.**

**Any who, I'm working on a little bit of everything now that I've got RTS finished. Hopefully another chapter will go up for each story soon. Sound cool? Alright then. Reviews are like cigarettes; I'm certain they're bad for me but they're so damn addicting. **

**Songs: Mr. Saxobeat – Alexandra Stan**

**Buttons – The Pussycat Dolls**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sooooo excited. The wonderfully fabulous inukimeko drew a fabulous picture for this story. Can we say excited? Flailing like a cat for food excited! It's from Kurt's performance of 'Mr. Saxobeat' I'm sure you'll love it as much as I do. Wanna know a secret? It's my wallpaper on my phone. Squee! k1tten-boy is her Tumblr address. It's under 'fanart'. **

**Many thanks to Windsor. She pulled together Kurt's outfit for the chapter and she made sure my writing was mildly readable. What would I do without her? **

**In other news (yes, there is other news) this will be the first chapter of a 2 part Christmas...thing. I'm not sure what to call it but...yeah. This is the first chapter of whatever it is. Enjoy!**

**Chapter song: Santa Baby - Eartha Kitt. I'm partial to her version. I had to change a few works to make it work for Kurt, though. I guess that's the warning for this chapter. **

* * *

The car door was barely closed before Blaine's pants where undone and his hand was snaking beneath the waistband of his boxers. He was painfully hard. It'd been far too long since he'd touch a man the way he'd just touched Kurt and his cock was not pleased about it.

The pharmacist took his dick into his hand and stroked it roughly. The sensation was dry and almost uncomfortable, but it was exactly what he needed. "God." He panted as his trembling hand slid up and then back down his leaking cock.

Masturbating –the correct term; he hated when people said 'jacking off' or 'rubbing one out'- it was something that Blaine did not do often. Yet, there he was, in the parking lot of a strip club, touching himself like a teenage boy. It was funny how that worked. Blaine Anderson was not an overtly sexual person. He enjoyed the more romantic things in life. He enjoyed cuddling and kissing more than he enjoyed being screwed against the kitchen counter.

The tides were turning though. Since he met Kurt a few months before, Blaine began to masturbate on a consistent basis. While he would never admit it, he knew that had something to do with the sex that Kurt oozed from his pores like sweat; especially that night. The thought of Kurt's rolling hips and the playful glint in his eyes spurred the flick of the pharmacist's wrist as it slid down to the base of his cock.

From time to time he ran his thumb over the head to collect his precum. He used it to lubricate his decent. He was close; so close. And for a moment – a tiny wrinkle in time- just before he came, he imagined that it was Kurt's hand that was touching him. He imagined that it was Kurt's hand squeezing just below the head and he imagined it was Kurt's hand being showered with his seed. In his mind, for that tiny moment, it was Kurt's hand that relieved the pressure in his groin. Blaine came harder in that moment than he had in years of sleeping with his ex-husband.

The moment Blaine realized what drove him towards his mind blowing orgasm, he felt guilty. He'd used Kurt, his friend, as his catalyst. _I'm so ashamed_. The pharmacist wiped his soiled hand on his pants and shoved his key in the ignition. He needed to get home as quickly as possible. He didn't want to risk the chance of running into Kurt. He couldn't face his friend; not then, possibly not ever.

* * *

Kurt sat in his truck for a while, wallowing in his guilt. He hated being the reason Blaine ran out. More so, he hated being the cause of Blaine's embarrassment. _This is why Rachel is my only friend. I can't embarrass her because she embarrasses herself._

The performer shook his head._ Low self-esteem will get you nowhere. _His mother's words of course. She was right. _She's always right._ Wallowing would get him nowhere. An apology and a peace offering would, however. Kurt grinned to himself and started his truck. He had an idea.

* * *

Blaine towel dried his hair as he padded barefoot through his house. A shower- that was what he needed all along. He needed to wash away the guilt and shame from the evening. Then, he needed a drink; nothing too strong, just a glass of wine.

As the pharmacist headed towards his kitchen, he noticed his dog perched in the bench seat near the front window. He rolled his eyes. His dog may have been tiny, but he was always on patrol. "Come on, Doo Wop, there's nothing out there."

The dog turned his head at the sound of his name before turning back to the window. He made it obvious that he wasn't moving. With a sigh, the pharmacist turned towards his kitchen. He could hear the wine calling him.

With a glass in hand and the bottle he retrieved from the refrigerator, the pharmacist sat down at his kitchen table and began to pour. His glass was nearly full when Doo Wop began to park. Blaine groaned. _Darn dog._ "Doo Wop, stop barking at the-" The shout was cut off by the sound of a knock at the door. Frustrated as ever, Blaine stood from his chair and padded towards the door. _It's probably Santana and Quinn here to jerk me around for running out._

Without thinking to check the peephole, Blaine swung the door open. He was shocked to be met by a bouquet full of yellow roses. "I…" Kurt's head shot out from behind the flowers and he smiled shyly at his friend.

"The crazy florist near my job-" Blaine's smile grew wider with each passing moment. In his 29 years of life, he'd never received flowers before. He'd given them time and time again, but he'd never been the recipient. It felt nice.

"The one who always tells people about being probed by little green men?" He asked knowingly.

Kurt nodded and continued, virtually undeterred. "-told me that yellow roses symbolize friendship and they promise a new beginning. I'm really sorry for embarrassing you at the club, Blaine. I hope you can accept my apology." The dancer thrust the flowers into his friend's hands and hoped for the best.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Kurt. It was me. I'm sorry." Blaine responded as he stared absently at the flowers. There was something about receiving flowers that was hypnotizing. To him, they were far more beautiful in his hands than they could have been in the store.

When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the flowers, he looked up to see his friend staring at him skeptically. "I'm serious, Kurt, you have nothing to be sorry for. I just….it was all a bit too much. I wasn't embarrassed because of you. I was…" Kurt's eyes went wide as he realized why his friend was turning a tomato shade of red.

"Oh…OH…were you…?"

Blaine instantly defended himself. "It wasn't my fault." He whined. "It's just…..been a while and….I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm so ashamed that…" The moment he heard a round of giggles erupt from Kurt's lips, the pharmacist's mouth snapped shut.

"Oh…oh my God, Blaine, really?" The dancer giggled, shoulders jerking up and down with each wave of laughter. Blaine scrunched his face in annoyance. _It's not funny._ Kurt seemed to think it was, however. "You ran out because you had a hard on? I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but 90% of the guys in the room probably had a hard on. It wasn't a big deal."

"It's not funny!"

Kurt shook his head. "No! You're right! You're right." His laughter slowly began to subside. "I'm sorry. It's just, I'm a dancer, I'm used to dealing with…._that_."

"But you're my friend and…" Blaine was frazzled. He hated what happened at the club –his side of things, not Kurt's- and he hated that Kurt wasn't surprised. He should have been, Blaine wanted him to be, but he wasn't.

"…and it's a natural bodily reaction. If that's why you ran out, you could have saved yourself some cardio. I wouldn't have freaked out." Kurt stopped and stepped a bit closer to his friend. He knew he was invading Blaine's space, but he needed his friend to understand that the situation was not as embarrassing as he was making it out to be. "You shouldn't have freaked out. But, since you did, I figured I would bring you roses. They always make me better and I hope they can make you feel better too."

With a triumphant smile, the dancer swept past his friend and into the house. "Now, come along. You promised me a movie night and I expect you to provide one." Blaine smiled between the flowers in his hands and the friend in his living room.

"You're right; I did promise you a movie night." Kurt nodded. "I'm going to put these in water and then I'll pop in a DVD."

Kurt, who was already making himself comfortable on the couch, nodded. "I'll be waiting." He sing songed. Blaine returned a few minutes later with a movie. He popped it into the player and sat down next to his friend. His glass of wine remained untouched on the kitchen table that evening.

* * *

Time passed and the men did not speak of the incident from that fateful night. Instead, they spent their time playing the loving, doting couple for Sebastian and Jeremiah and they continued to nurture their blooming friendship. Things were going well; extremely well, so well that Blaine was concerned. All good things came to an end in his life. He knew that things with Kurt were only temporary, but he didn't want them to end before they had to. He had a month until Kurt planned to leave for New York and he wanted to savor each moment. _Call me greedy._

"I don't know why y'all don't just give me some of them samples y'all be hoarding back there. You wrong for that!" Blaine snapped to attention when he heard Mr. Jenkins shouting at him from across the counter. "I'm just an ol' man and my lady likes it when I give it to her right."

The pharmacy was busy that week. As they crept closer to Christmas, people needed to have their prescriptions filled. Medication didn't stop for the holidays. "Mr. Jenkins," Blaine began, "I'm sorry. I know this is frustrating for you but I can't just give you that kind of medication."

The man took his cane and slammed it down on the counter. A few passersby jumped at the sound but Blaine was not startled. He and Mr. Jenkins went through the same thing every day. Every day, Mr. Jenkins came in demanding something to make him more…._functional,_ and every day, Blaine shot him down and directed him in speak with his doctor. "Now you not 'bout to mess with me, young man. I'm tryna give my lady the ol' heave ho for Christmas. I got a big ol' present for her to open."

Blaine shook his head. "No, Mr. Jenkins. I'm not going to just give you Viagra. You need to contact your physician and-"

"I'm tired of talking to that raggedy mothafu-"

"Children!" A nearby mother shouted before the elderly man could finish the word. The two looked around and, sure enough, there were children spread out all over the store. With the holiday break, Blaine wasn't surprised.

"I'm just saying! Help an ol' man out. We don't know how long I have left."

"You're healthy as a horse, Mr. Jenkins. I think you've got enough time to speak with your doctor about this." The man sighed and shook his head. He was gone a moment later, leaving Blaine to wonder if Mr. Jenkins was right. Obviously the pharmacist couldn't hand over medication without a prescription, but life was short. Did Mr. Jenkins have as long as the pharmacist assumed he did? _I hope so. He's odd but I like him. _

Blaine returned to his station and continued to check prescriptions. Quinn had taken some time off to spend with her family, which meant she was spending time with whatever girl she could find since Rachel was playing hard to get again, so the pharmacist was left with a floater; a different colleague each day from different pharmacies around the city. Today it was Jesse. "What are you doing when we close up, Anderson?" The man asked as he recounted the prescription in front of him.

"Oh…nothing. Just hanging out with friends." It was actually just Santana. Kurt decided that Blaine shouldn't attend anymore shows and, up until that point, he hadn't. The two usually met up after Kurt's shift and watched movies or planned the next phase of their attack on the Seremiah union. Oddly enough, as time passed, Blaine was less and less concerned about getting his ex-husband back.

It wasn't that he didn't love the man, he obviously did, he just wasn't as inclined to chase him. He had no idea when it happened but the urge to steal Jeremiah from his fiancé wasn't as present as it was months before.

"Well….if you guys are looking for a party, they're doing a giant Christmas XXXtravaganza at Xcelerate; you know, the strip club. I went last year and this dancer, Kalvin, sang. It was so hot. He's supposed to sing this year."

Instantly, Blaine's ears perked up. He'd never heard Kurt sing. He'd heard _about_ Kurt's singing from Rachel –'_He's good, but I'm better'_- but he'd never heard it live and in person. "Hmmm…I might have to check that out."

* * *

Kurt listened intently as Artie finished announcing him. He was nervous, to say the least. He only sang at the club during their Christmas show and he never failed to be consumed by his nerves. The crowd was always bigger during the holiday season. More people were home visiting their families and they needed a way to relieve themselves without cheating on the men and women they loved. The Christmas show was their way to relieve their pent up energy without the underlying guilt that cheating provided.

When his name was called, Kurt made his way onto the stage. The reaction was instantaneous. His outfit was an instant success. It wasn't anything too special in his mind; a plain, fitted oxford shirt paired with a pair of super tiny red shorts that were held up by suspenders and had a giant Santa Claus head sewn to the crotch. He topped the outfit off with a jauntily placed Santa hat and a pair of knee high, black boots with fur around the lip. To him, it wasn't anything special, something he'd thrown together last minute, but the crowd loved it.

Slowly, swishing his hips as he went, the performer headed to the front of the stage. He smiled and winked at the crowd when he reached the microphone that stood front and center; it was lined with red and white tape, so it looked like a candy cane. "Good evening Ladies and not so gentle Men." Cheers erupted from the audience. Playing his role as perfectly as he could, the performer winked at a few more patrons and shot kisses at the others.

When the roars died down, Kurt stepped closer to the microphone and began to sing. His hips rocked side to side with the slow beat of the song and his hands trailed up as his hands trailed up and down the expanse of the microphone.

_Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me  
I've been an awful good boy  
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight._

The performer slid his hands off the microphone stand and up to the suspenders on his outfit. He continued to sing as he buried his thumbs beneath the pieces of cloth and slowly pulled them away from his body. He let them fall to his side.

_Santa baby, a '54 convertible too, light blue  
I'll wait up for you dear  
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_

His hips rocked side to side as he untucked his dress shirt. Starting from the bottom, the performer undid each of the buttons of the shirt. He let it hang open from his shoulders for a moment before he shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor. The moment it hit, the crowd began to cheer.

Kurt grabbed the microphone and began to flit around the stage. He scanned the crowd as he went. There were just as many familiar faces as there were unfamiliar ones. Next to the unfamiliar man in the corner was Jesse, a guy that had hit on him the after the show the year before. Surprisingly enough, next to the uncomfortable loner in the corner, was the Hollister hoodie. From beneath his hood, Kurt could see him smirking. Kurt winked and smirked back.

By far, the biggest surprise was a few tables back from the stage. Seated next to a girl with breasts the size of bowling balls was Blaine. He hadn't been back since Kurt's attempt at being a Pussycat Doll. It was a welcome surprise. He looked comfortable, more so than before, and he seemed to be honestly enjoying the performance. Stripping aside, Kurt decided to focus on his friend for the remainder of the song. _I'll sing for him and strip for them. It's a win win._

_Think of all the fun I've missed  
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed  
Next year I could be oh so good  
If you'd check off my Christmas list  
Boo doo bee doo_

As he danced around the stage, Kurt collected money from his adoring fans. A 10 here and a 100 there made his performance worthwhile. Again, the biggest surprise came from Blaine. At some point in time, he stood from his table and stepped towards the stage. When Kurt wasn't expecting it, the pharmacist slid a bill into the furry cuff of the dancer's boot. Instinctively, Kurt jumped but recovered quickly when he realized that it was his friend. The shared a warm smile before Kurt turned away and began to dance for the other customers.

_Santa baby, I'm filling my stocking with a duplex, and checks  
Sign your 'X' on the line  
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_

The song neared its finish and so did Kurt's performance. He danced back over the microphone stand and placed the device in its holder. It was almost time for his big reveal.

_Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring  
I don't mean a phone  
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_

As he sang the last lines of the song, the dancer shimmied out of the tiny red shorts. He let them hit the floor before kicking them to the side and posing in his spot.  
_  
Hurry down the chimney tonight  
Hurry down the chimney tonight._

The silence was audible for a moment before chaos started. The silence before the storm. Kurt was wearing nothing but a tiny, g-string lined in white, faux fur. Hoots and hollers sounded from all directions as the dancer posed. After a moment, he chanced a look over his shoulder. He was very pleased. Money was flying from all directions. All in all, the performance was successful; lucrative and well received. Kurt was pleased; very pleased.

* * *

Blaine sat in silence as he watched his friend exit the stage. Friend. _What a complex word._ Blaine wasn't well versed in the friend department, but he was certain that friends weren't supposed to make his stomach drop and friends weren't supposed to make him hard. Friends weren't supposed to turn his mind to mush with their beautiful voices and friend's voices weren't supposed to be referred to a beautiful. There was something about the way Kurt sang; however, that made Blaine forget his troubles. Kurt's voice was just as airy and light as it was commanding and forceful. It made Blaine's heart leap in ways that Jeremiah's voice –erotic as it was- had never done. The thought scared Blaine.

He wasn't afraid of the way Kurt's singing voice made his knees weak. Every man, woman, and drag queen in the club was crooning over the man's sultry voice. He was afraid of the way Kurt's laugh made knocked the wind out of him. He was afraid of the way Kurt's smile was so infectious that it made him smile for days. He was afraid of the fact that Kurt made him feel alive in ways that he hadn't felt alive in years. Kurt made his heart beat double time and that scared the pharmacist. It scared him because he knew the feeling.

Some called it a crush; innocent and light. Blaine Anderson did not 'crush' on people. Blaine Anderson fell head over heels in love. That's what scared the pharmacist. He knew he was falling for Kurt –though he couldn't pinpoint the moment when it started- and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. He also knew that Kurt was leaving soon and there was nothing he could do to stop that either. So, he would keep his feelings to himself and hope that they went away. _Maybe I should avoid him. I'll call off this whole Jeremiah thing and just wait until he leaves. It'll hurt less that way. _

**Didn't expect you tonight. I was glad to see you though. Do you want to come over and watch RHOA with me while I decorate the tree? –Kurt. **

Well, he couldn't very well turn down an offer like that.

**I'll bring the hot chocolate. –Blaine**

The pharmacist slid his phone into his pocket and stood from his seat. He wouldn't be avoiding Kurt after all. It was just as well. He hadn't been able to avoid Jeremiah when he needed to, Kurt would be no different. In the end, he would end up hurt and alone. It was just how things worked out in his life.

**Great. Rachel made Vegan cookies. We can throw them away and put the ones I bought at the store before work on her tray. It'll be great. –Kurt**

**Sounds awesome. –Blaine**

Now that Blaine had an understanding as to why he'd been feeling less inclined to chase Jeremiah over the past few weeks, he wasn't so sure it was going to be 'awesome'. He wasn't going to burst Kurt's bubble though. It was his problem and his problem alone. Besides, it was Christmastime. It was about putting smiles on the faces of people he cared about; even if those smiles made his heart ache with want. _Darn._

* * *

**A/N: Are we excited? I am. Wait until next chapter. I'm even more excited for that one. Hope you liked it. Again, check out the fanart and drop a review. Both will be appreciated. It's amazing. **

**Follow me on twitter: Britbojangles**

**And I finally set up a Tumblr again (kind of) mcclapyohandzzz I need some folks to follow. If y'all want to be those folks...well then let me know. :)  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This is the last update of any of my stories until after the new year. I hope it's enjoyable. A million thanks to Windsor for putting up with my badgering. I love you long time! ;)**

**I try to stay away from songs they've done on Glee, but all of these songs worked so, I'll just list the songs and we'll assume they're all the Glee cast versions. **

**Beauty School Dropout**

**Feliz Navidad **

**White Christmas (The actual Glee cast version)**

**Warnings: No stripping. Bring your toothbrush!**

* * *

Kurt wanted to pretend that he didn't know the exact moment when things changed, but he did. It started two nights before Christmas. He and Blaine were double dating with Jeremiah and Sebastian at a local Sushi restaurant. "So, Kurt, how's beauty school treating you? Have you learned how to feather hair yet?" Sebastian asked as he stabbed at a piece of sushi. His voice dripped with amusement.

Blaine answered before the dancer could think of a witty reply. "Maybe you should consider beauty school, Sebastian. If you did, then you'd know that Zack Morris hair went out in the 90s." Every head at the table turned towards him. Blaine never made sarcastic comments. Blaine was always one to turn the other cheek. Not that day, however. Blaine snarked back and Kurt couldn't help but feel just a bit proud of the man.

"Actually, Sebastian," Kurt cut in quickly, "I've decided to forego my cosmetology education in lieu of other opportunities." Sebastian chuckled to himself. Jeremiah joined in shortly thereafter.

"Other opportunities, right!"

Jeremiah turned to his fiancé and smiled. "Babe, he's a beauty school drop out." The man then turned his gaze to Kurt quickly and smirked as he sang. "No graduation day for you. Beauty school dropout. Missed your midterms and flunked shampoo."

A moment later, Sebastian joined in. "Well at least you could have taken time to wash and clean your clothes up, after spending all that dough to have the doctor fix your nose up."

The dancer sank back in his seat as the two men sang loudly. He wanted to be anywhere but there. People were turning in their chairs to stare at the scene. He hated it. Unwanted attention was not something he appreciated. He may have been a dancer but no one at the club picked on him. They knew better. Will, repulsive as he may have been, did not tolerate customers that mocked or chastised his performers. Kurt didn't have that in the restaurant. Gone was the shield that protected him from ridicule. Or so he thought.

"Well, guys. Thank you for this but Kurt and I have to leave. The atmosphere isn't very welcoming anymore." Kurt watched as Blaine stood from his chair and pulled out his wallet. He tossed a few dollars on the table as he glared at the men. "That should cover our food."

Surprise of the pleasantest kind spread through Kurt's body as Blaine pulled his chair out. He'd never had his chair pulled out for him before. Kurt stood quickly and shot a disapproving look at the seated men. "Thanks for the evening ,guys." He smiled just before turning and following Blaine out of the restaurant. He wasn't sure why but he was very pleased with the pharmacist's reaction to his ex's teasing. _Maybe he's finally seeing the light. _

* * *

"I'm so sorry about what happened back there." Blaine said once they were parked in front of Kurt's recently decorated house. Kurt smiled at his friend.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault."

"It doesn't matter. They had no right to treat you like that."

Kurt shrugged. "They're probably just jealous. I mean, Sebastian has been jealous of me from the start –me being so fine and all- and Jeremiah might be coming around. So, maybe this," he motions to them, "is working finally. Jeremiah is getting jealous and he'll be running in slow motion towards you soon."

Even if he wanted to, Kurt couldn't miss the way Blaine's smile faltered. It dropped like a rock before bouncing back in the most insincere way possible. "Yeah….maybe this is working." His words were hollow and emotionless.

The pair sat silently for a moment; each contemplating the future of Blaine's love life and Kurt's life in general. Soon enough, if things worked out, Kurt would be New York living his dream and Blaine would be in Lima - alone.

After hours of contemplation on his own, Blaine wasn't sure he was willing to forgive Jeremiah for everything he put him through. He wasn't sure if Jeremiah was worth forgiving. Then, there were his feelings for Kurt. Feelings that he refused to acknowledge in the younger man's presence. Those feelings would go nowhere. Kurt was leaving; plain and simple.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Kurt spoke up. "Are you still coming to my New Year's show? It's going to be amazing. It's our third biggest show of the year, behind Christmas and Father's day."

Blaine smiled, grateful for the change in topic. "Of course. Of course I'll be there."

* * *

Christmas Eve came quicker than expected. One day the men were braving checkout lines at grocery stores for more cookies and cheap decorations and the next they were crowded amongst friends in the Hummelberry – _I don't know where Rachel comes up with these damn names_ - living room.

For the first time, Kurt and Rachel's Christmas Eve festivities included outsiders. Everyone brought someone. Santana and Quinn brought Puck and Sam and Blaine brought Doo Wop. Their five-some turned into an eight-some in no time flat. The performer and his waitress sidekick were exponentially pleased.

As the group sat around the coffee table, passing around booze and holiday treats, they listened to Rachel tell story after story about her 'glory days' –as she proclaimed them to be. "…and then Finn Hudson –do you remember Finn Hudson, Kurt-" Rachel slurred. While Kurt had politely declined each offer to drink, Rachel had not. She indulged in a way that let Kurt know that she was still raw from her loss. Unlike him, she hadn't lost parents before. Years later, she was still trying to hide it by drinking too much from time to time and exercising her flare for the dramatic. The dancer nodded. _I try to forget him every damn day_. "Yeah…I bet you do. You had the biggest crush on him."

"That's enough, Rachel." Kurt finally interjected. Finn Hudson was a thing of the past and Kurt wanted to keep him there.

"Right…so anyways, Finn Hudson just leaned over and kissed me. I mean, we were in front of our families, and New York, and God, and everyone and he just leaned over and kissed me. Needless to say, his act of unprofessionalism cost of the competition, but….it was worth it. So worth it."

One look at the dreamy expression on Rachel's face and Kurt knew she was gone. She'd hopped on whatever rocket or magic carpet she could find and traveled back to that moment in time, the moment Finn Hudson kissed her. So, doing what he did best, Kurt cleared his throat and directed attention towards himself. "In the spirit of Christmas, and the talent you all are amongst," Kurt announced.

Rachel's ears perked at the word 'talent'. "Thank you, Kurt."

The dancer shot his friend a disapproving look. "No, Rachel. Just no."

"I think we should sing some Christmas songs." The buzz bore of excitement and anticipation filled the room.

Santana was the first to comment. "Will you be naked while we sing, _Kurt_?" She added emphasis to his name. Only recently had she found out that Kalvin was not his given name. When she confronted the dancer about it, he made her figure it out for herself.

"_I'm saying it as fast as I can and I still don't get it." _

"_So say it again. You will." _

"_Kalvin Climbs." _

"_Faster." _

"_Kalvin Climbs. Kalvin Climbs. Kalvin Climbs. Oh…Calvin Klein." _

The dancer shook his head. "I shall remain fully clothed if you don't mind."

"I do mind." She muttered. "But whatever, I'm all about showing you Gringos about Christmas." She motioned for Sam to sit next to her.

"You were born in Arkansas, Santana." Quinn quipped as she scooted closer to Rachel. Surprisingly, Rachel was the one that closed the distance. The girl was hot and cold. Sometimes she pushed Quinn away and other times she pulled her close. Whether it was the alcohol or the merriment of the season, Quinn didn't care. She was infatuated with Rachel so the closeness was welcome.

"Shut up, Anglo Saxon. Now, my song." She whispered into the blond man's ear and he began to play. The group instantly perked up. The mood was definitely a festive one.

"_**Feliz navidad  
feliz navidad  
faliz navidad  
prospero ano y felicidad  
**_

_**Feliz navidad  
feliz navidad  
faliz navidad  
prospero ano y felicidad**_

I wanna wish you a merry Christmas! I wanna wish you a merry Christmas I wanna wish you a merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart!"

The group clapped and sang along as the doctor belted out the lyrics in a way that only she could. When the song finished, the group clapped and their drinking and festivities commenced. Midway through Sam and Puck's rendition of 'Grandma got run over by a reindeer', Blaine leaned over and whispered in Kurt's ear. "You have a lovely voice. We should sing together."

The dancer turned to him and smiled. "How do I know if you have a lovely voice? You may have an awful voice." The pharmacist shrugged and grabbed his drink from the coffee table. Just as they had been the entire evening, the boys were seated cross legged in front of it.

"I guess you'll just have to take a chance." The words rang through Kurt's head like a bell. Take a chance. He could do that.

"You're on." The pharmacist smiled and placed his untouched drink back down. There something about Christmas and, more specifically, Kurt's presence, that made him want to forego drinking.

"Fine, what song?" He asked in all seriousness. The song had to be perfect. No too romantic –less Blaine was ready to admit his feelings- but not too dreary –less Blaine wanted to be depressed. He wanted neither, so song selection was key.

"How about 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'?" Kurt suggested. The pharmacist blanched._ There is no way in H-E- Double hockey sticks. We can't sing the song. _Kurt noticed the reaction. "Too much? Okay, how about 'Let It Snow'? That's a cute song." It was.

"Nahhh… How about 'White Christmas'?" Kurt's face lit up.

"Perfect." The dancer stood and walked to the front of the room. "Okay…no Rachel, you are not singing again. Put your hand down." The girl's face flushed and her hand lowered to her lap. "Now, Blaine and I are going to sing a Christmas song together." He turned to his friend and cued for him to start the music. The dancer stood back as his friend began the song.

"_**Ba do ba do bow bow bow ba dow  
Ba do be do bow bow bow ba dum**_

**_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas_**  
**_Just like the ones I used to know_**  
**_Where the tree tops glisten,_**  
**_And children listen_**  
**_To hear sleigh bells in the snow, the snow..."_**

Blaine's voice was amazing, that was clear. It was low and smooth in ways that Kurt always assumed was attributed to synthesizers and Autotune. There were no synthesizers or Autotune machines at Kurt's house. Thus, he was left to believe that the beautiful sounds coming out of Blaine's mouth were the results of natural talent.

"_**Said, I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
With every Christmas card I write  
May your days, may your days, may your days be merry and bright  
And may all your Christmases be white, whoa, whoa"**_

The pharmacist danced around the couch and towards the spot that his friend stood in. Playfully, Kurt dashed away. He ran to the opposite side of the room and watched Blaine's expressions change. First, he looked let down. That look quickly turned to one of excitement. It was a game; cat and mouse. Well, I'll be the cat then.

"_**I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
Just like the ones I used to know  
Where the tree tops glisten,  
And children listen  
To hear sleigh bells in the snow (bow be do be do)"**_

The group watched as Blaine dashed towards Kurt again. This time, the dancer was so enthralled with Blaine's voice he didn't move. He stood stock still as the elder slipped his hand around his shoulder. When the next verse came up, Kurt decided to take over. I can't let Blaine have all the fun.

"_**I...I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
With every Christmas card I write, oh  
May your days, may your days, may your days be merry and bright (oh, let them be bright!)  
And may all your Christmases be white"**_

The breath rushed out of Blaine's lungs the moment Kurt began to sing. Obviously he'd heard the young man sing before, but this was different. It wasn't sultry or sensual. It was light and fun; angelic in every sense of the word. He watched the dancer skip away from his grasp and to the other side of the room. The game was on again.

The pair continued to chase each other around the room like children. As the song reached its climax and completion, the two forgot that there were other people present. They got a pleasant reminder when Quinn and Santana started shouting. "Damn! Who knew you had that in you, Anderson?" One shouted at the same time that the other shouted, "That is completely unacceptable. You see these? Cavities; you guys just gave me cavities." Kurt and Blaine weren't sure who said what, but they were both pleased. Praise was always a welcomed reaction.

* * *

The night pressed on. Quinn, Santana, Puck, Sam, and Rachel sat around the couch talking while Kurt and Blaine stayed to themselves in a far corner. It was more about intimate conversation than it was about anti-socialization. "Like I said before, your voice is amazing. You're going to kill them in New York."

Usually, Kurt's face lit up like their gaudy Christmas tree when someone mentioned New York; his New York. It didn't then, however. He managed a weak smile at best. "Yeah….just yeah."

"I'm serious, Kurt. You have a spectacular voice."

"Well, what about you? I almost fell over when you opened your mouth. If I wasn't fake dating you, I'd ask you out." The dancer gushed. He noticed a shy smile form on the pharmacist's face. He shook his head.

"It's nothing special; especially not compared to yours." When Kurt opened his mouth to disagree, he was cut off by the sound of a throat clearing. It was Santana.

"As much as I'd love to continue watching you to tip toe around each other, Doo Wop and I are exhausted. We're going to head upstairs and cuddle with Quinn." The men looked around. With the exception of the three of them –four if Doo Wop was counted- the room was empty. When did that happen? Kurt questioned. He hadn't heard a single person leave. "And FYI, Rachel is asleep in the doorway between her room and the hall, Puck and Sam are asleep on the floor in the basement, and Quinn is in Rachel's bed."

Each man nodded absently. They were still trying to figure out when every else left the room. "Also, I wasn't going to say anything but…" She nodded her head towards the ceiling, "Merry Christmas, guys." With that, she turned towards the stairs. She left the men staring in shock in her wake.

_Mistletoe; how could I forget we put up mistletoe? Shit. _

Blaine's mind wasn't nearly as calm as Kurt's. _Oh crap. Really? Maybe I should tell him it's not necessary. Yeah. I'll just blow it off. But what if he wants to kiss me? I ate those onion rings. I wonder how my breath smells. Did I put on too much Old Spice? Does Old Spice make me smell old? Oh darn. He's staring at me. Is he waiting for an answer? Does he want permission? What am I waiting for? Should I walk away? Oh…._

As quickly as lightning would strike, Blaine's mouth was covered with Kurt's. A million synapses fired at once and he was certain he wasn't in Kansas anymore. Kurt's lips were soft and the tiniest bit moist. _Well, damn!_

Kurt's heart beat out of his chest and across the room. Blaine's mouth felt amazing. His lips were slightly chapped but Kurt didn't mind. They were perfect. _And he smells amazing._ They slotted against his like a puzzle piece and the dancer was certain that he was going to have trouble pulling that puzzle piece apart. Alas, all good things had to end. Slowly, the younger man pulled back. For a moment, it was at the top of his 'hardest things I've ever had to do' list.

When they were an acceptable distance apart, Kurt opened his eyes. Blaine was staring at him with wide eyes and a dopey grin plastered across his mouth. Chancing a look at the clock on the wall, Kurt smiled. "Merry Christmas, Blaine."

The pharmacist nodded. "Merry Christmas, Kurt."

* * *

**A/N: Go Blaine. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. : ) Let me know what you think. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: You guys picked it. 'S&M' is the song for this chapter. **

* * *

Kurt fell asleep that night with an overwhelming sense of pride lingering in his chest. _Sometimes you have to grab life by the nuts and run with it. _His father's words. And he'd done it. He'd swallowed the all consuming terror that rose in his chest as he realized the predicament he and Blaine were in and gone for it. His first real kiss. It wasn't the way imagined it, but it was amazing none the less. Regardless of the status of their relationship, he was given the opportunity to share his first kiss with someone he cared about. And he took it. _It was definitely worth it._

Christmas day, he was awoken by a contented sigh. As his eyes crept open, he noticed a certain curly haired pharmacist cuddling with a pillow on the far side of his bed. Kurt smiled. Blaine was adorable when he slept. He looked peaceful. The dancer didn't dare wake him. So, as carefully as he could, he slid out of bed and pulled a throw over his friend's shoulders. He then made his way downstairs to start breakfast…and coffee. _There has to be coffee._

An hour or so later, breakfast was finished and the other occupants of the house were still dozing. _Well, that just won't do_. Kurt thought as he exited the kitchen. It was Christmas morning for fuck's sake. They were supposed to be opening presents and enjoying each other's company. He ran through each room shouting for the occupants to get up. They all groaned and complained about headaches and it being 'too fucking early in the morning' and 'too fucking bright for a goddamn Christmas day'. Kurt didn't care though. He hadn't drank like the rest of them, so he was fine. They should have watched their alcohol consumption.

As his first official good deed of the day –one deed on a list compiled of exactly one deed- Kurt decided to wake Blaine last. The dancer crept into his room and over to his bed. Just as he'd left him, Blaine was cuddled with his pillow. His curly hair –greyed around the edges- darted out in all directions. It made Kurt smile. Blaine was too cute for words. He almost felt bad for waking him up; almost.

"Wake up, sleepy head." He whispered as he gave the man's shoulder a shake. Blaine grumbled and rolled away from the dancer. So, Kurt tried again. He gave Blaine's shoulders another shake and whispered to him. "Get up. It's Christmas. Santa came."

"Screw Santa, Jer. I'm tired and I'm not in the mood. Leave me alone." Blaine barked in return. Kurt raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Blaine was obviously in another world. He hadn't spat venom at Kurt like that since the night they argued in his car. The performer almost didn't try again. 'Almost' being the operative word. Blaine was getting up whether he wanted to or not.

"Get up, dammit!" Kurt yanked the throw from around the pharmacist's shoulders and gave his body another shake, rougher than the ones before. In an instant, the elder was awake. He jolted up in bed and looked around the room with wide eyes.

"Wha' happened?" He asked as he took in the scenery. Kurt smirked.

"You told me to quote 'screw Santa, _JER_. I'm tired and not in the mood.' End quote. You also told me to leave you alone. As you can tell, I'm not a very good listener." Kurt watched as his friend groaned and buried his head in his hands.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. Jeremiah used to bug me in the mornings and…I don't know. I'm usually so disoriented when I wake up that I thought it was him. I'm sorry for yelling at you." He sounded as if Kurt's forgiveness was the oxygen he needed to live. It was endearing in a way for the performer.

Kurt waved him off. "It's quite alright. Rachel always thinks I'm her cat –a cat that she's never owned- when she's asleep. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up to her cuddled against me and petting my head."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. "That's kind of weird." Kurt nodded. _It is kind of weird. Then again, it is Rachel. She's in a league of her own._

"Now, come on. Let's go down stairs and open presents." Blaine smiled as he climbed out of Kurt's bed. Presents; everyone likes presents.

* * *

Gift opening was a quiet affair. Most of the participants were hung over, so loud noises were banned from the jump. As they exchanged gifts, they offered thankful eyes and bright smiles to each other as thanks.

Kurt neared the last gift under the tree. It was from him to Blaine. He quickly grabbed it and handed to the elder man. "I hope you like it." He whispered, earning a death glare from Rachel. Blaine grabbed it immediately and pulled the ribbon off. He tied it around his neck and smiled at the dancer.

"A bow. Thank you, Kurt. You shouldn't have." Kurt shook his head in disapproval, but the wide smile on his face gave him away.

"No, silly. The gift is obviously in the paper. Why the hell would I ball up paper and wrap it with your gift?" Blaine shrugged. _I still think the bow on the outside is pretty cool. _After he received another disapproving glare from his friend, he tore the paper open. Nestled inside the Happy Birthday wrapping paper –'_Blaine, I still have wrapping paper left over from Rachel's birthday gift. I'm obviously not buying more wrapping paper for Christmas. Then I'll have even more left over and I don't want to drag all that to New York. It's a hassle._'- was a bowtie with 'Pharm.D' patterned across it in rainbow colors.

A slow smile crept across Blaine's face. "Where did you get this?" He asked incredulously. He had no idea they made bowties like this one. He had no idea that Kurt knew that he liked bowties. He hardly ever wore them anymore because he couldn't find ones that went with his work clothes. He usually stuck to a black tie or no tie at all.

Kurt smiled. "Do you like it?" He asked sheepishly. Blaine nodded. He loved it. "And, to answer your question, I made it. I was at Fabric Shack, looking for fabric for my next performance costume, and I ran across it. I bought a little and made you a bowtie."

Blaine couldn't help himself. He turned to Kurt and engulfed him in a tight hug. "This is the sweetest gift I've ever received. Thank you so much." It was the honest to God truth. It was sweeter than the crystal that his parents gave him for his wedding and took back upon his divorce. And much sweeter than the gonorrhea Jeremiah gave him for their second and third wedding anniversaries. Kurt hugged Blaine equally as tight. There was something about hugging the man that made everything feel right. It was as if Blaine had taken the seesaw and set it flat rather than teetering to one side or the other. It felt normal, natural; balanced.

With the gifts opened and the food finished, the group began to go their separate ways. "Hey, I forgot to give you your gift." Blaine said once everyone else was gone. He actually hadn't forgotten, he just didn't want to give it in front of them. Things between him and Kurt weren't the business of others.

Kurt shrugged. He wasn't going to say anything. He'd simply assumed that Blaine decided not to get him anything. It wasn't a big deal; even if it hurt like hell to think.

The dancer shooed Rachel up to her room before joining Blaine on the living room couch. When he plopped down next to his friend, he noticed an envelope in his hands. "This is for you, Kurt. I hope you like it." Kurt snatched it greedily. Yes, he was a child at heart and Christmas presents were awesome.

He tore the envelope open in record time. "Oh my God." He gasped as he pulled the check out. _There are too many zeroes on this._ "Blaine. What is this?" He finally asked. His friend smirked at him. What a shit eating grin it was.

"It's a check, Kurt. Us old folks get them with our bank accounts. They're just like those new-fangled debit cards they give out." _Go fuck yourself smart ass._ "It's for you. " _Well, I can see that. Why though?_

Blaine noticed the expression on his friend's face. "We had a deal. You help me out and I help you out."

"But you and Jeremiah aren't any closer to getting back together. Unless…." Kurt gasped. "Are you guys getting back together? And you didn't tell me? You bitch!" The pharmacist sat back and shook his head at each of Kurt's frantic questions.

"We're not getting back together."

"So what's the check for?" Kurt tried to hand the check back to his friend but the elder wouldn't have it. He refused to take it each time. "Come on, Blaine. We had a deal. I help you get back with your ex and you give me a couple grand. Not only is this like five times what we agreed upon, but you're not back with him." Kurt tried to thrust the check into his friend's hand once more. It didn't work.

"We haven't gotten back together because I've decided I don't want to be with him. I spent all this time chasing something I never had and I'm tired. I'm tired of running after a guy that doesn't want me. So, I'm giving up on him. And, you did help me. You helped me see the light. That night, all that stuff you said in the car, it stuck. So, I'm paying you for that. Let's say the rest is an investment in your future."

"I can't accept this." Kurt insisted once more. Just as before, it fell on deaf ears.

"Yes you can. Your dad once brought me a whole freaking dinner for Thanksgiving because I told him I was going to be spending it alone. When I told him I couldn't accept it, he told me to stop trying to steal his shine. He said that I needed to learn to appreciate receiving gifts. This is a gift to you, Kurt. The only thing I expect in return is a front row seat to all your shows when you make it big."

The dancer didn't know what to say. It was too much. Blaine was right, however. His dad always told him to except gifts graciously. _It makes people feel good to give. Don't take that away from them._ "Do you think you have enough time off to see all my shows? I mean, I'm amazing, so I'll be in quite a few of them."

Blaine smiled so brightly that Kurt was certain the sun was wearing shades. "Yeah, I think I can make it work."

"Good."

* * *

Rachel left on the 30th for New York. She decided that, while looking for an apartment, she could also enjoy her first New York New Year's Eve. "Take lots of pictures, Rachel. I freaking mean it." Kurt advised as they reached the TSA checkpoint. Rachel nodded.

"Believe me! I'm going to take tons of pictures."

"Not of Broadway posters! We can see those when we get there. Take pictures of whatever apartments you look at. I don't care if it looks like every apartment we've ever seen in Lima, you take a damn picture. Understood?" The girl's smile, which had fallen significantly in the past few minutes, completely faded away.

"But, what if they change between the time I get back and the time we move? How will I remember them?"

Kurt ran a tired hand over his face. He wasn't in the mood for her shenanigans. "Rachel," He sighed, "just…nevermind. Don't waste that entire SD card on pictures of play posters. Please?" He was begging. If he had to, he'd get down on his knees and beg her. Their future was coming at them more quickly than it had before. Part of that future involved having a place to live. Without that, they wouldn't have a reason to move. _Because we wouldn't be moving, we'd be migrating. Ummm…NO!_

"Okay. I can do that." Kurt let out a relieved breathe. He was happy to hear that. "Alright, love, I have to get through security. I'll call you when I get there." Kurt scooped the girl up and hugged her close. "Love you, honey."

"Love you too."

He put her down and watched her walk away. _Aww…my little girl is going out into the world. I'm so proud. _Once she was through the checkpoint, Kurt exited the building and walked to his truck. He still had an outfit to put together for his New Year's show. He also had to pick a song.

* * *

**Man I got that swag  
My hat matches my bag  
You know I'm poppin tags  
Cuz man I got dat swag**

_**I swag when I surf**_  
_**Now watch me surf and swag**_

_**I'm on hypnotic**_  
_**Exotic**_  
_**That Polo on my body**_  
_**Got a bad girl beside**_  
_**And her friend right behind me**_  
_**And I'm swagin I'm surfin**_  
_**I'm swagin I'm surfin**_  
_**I'm swagin I'm surfin**_  
_**I'm clean like dish detergent**_

Blaine sang the first few verses of the song before starting over. He only knew the first few verses and he knew those because Santana had the song on her iPod. It felt right, however. He was getting ready for Kurt's New Year's show and he was extremely excited.

From what he'd heard from Jessie, the New Year's show was just as amazing at the Christmas one but far more evocative. He couldn't wait.

Once his shirt was ironed and his jeans –he'd forgone the khaki slacks for the evening- were pulled on, he hit the road. Quinn and Santana were meeting at the club and they would shoot him if he was late. _Literally shoot, LITERALLY._

* * *

Kurt's outfit was uncomfortable. It was probably the vinyl…or maybe the metal. Yeah…the metal was uncomfortable uncomfortable. It was worth it though; the show was going to be amazing. Bridget, a girl he went to high school with, was dancing to 'Maniac' from _Flashdance. _She was the only person in the place that could pull off the dance. Then Roz, an old pro who refused to take off her clothes but loved the stage, was going to bring the house down with a dance to 'I Want to Love You' by Akon. That would set the audience up for Kurt's performance. It was his first, and hopefully last, show closing performance. He couldn't wait. He was going to bring the house down. _Na-na-na-na-na come on._

* * *

Blaine watched patiently as Bridget danced to the Flashdance song that he danced to in the shower but never remembered the name to. He wished they would hurry up. Every time something happened, he assumed it was Kurt getting ready to perform. Each time, he was wrong.

New Year's was a different kind of night at the club. After every dance, all the waitresses –scantily clad as ever- got on stage and did a drink line. They waited with bottles and called patrons up to have some poured into their mouth. Guys and girls alike lined up to have their mouths filled. _That doesn't sound right. That doesn't sound right at all._

Blaine threw his head back in frustration when yet another dancer that wasn't Kurt took the stage. Santana seemed to be into it, but he wasn't. He couldn't quiet bring himself to rap the lyrics to the song with her, but he wasn't going to ruin her moment. She and Quinn loved it. He, however, was growing restless. He just wanted to see Kurt dance. Then, they could go hang out. Maybe they'd get dinner. _Well, it'll be late when he gets done. We could pick up McDonalds, but that's about all that's open. Kurt likes McDonalds. Well, he likes to bitch about eating McDonalds and then eat all of my food and then eat his own. Where does he put all that food? His butt! His butt has like…a lot of meat. He has a meaty ass. Unf…_ Blaine jumped as his thoughts. Why was he thinking about Kurt's ass? Why was he enjoying thinking about Kurt's ass? Sure, they'd kissed on Christmas Eve, but Kurt made it very clear that the kiss was one shared between friends and nothing more. _Friend zone. Damn._

"And now…..for our main event." Blaine perked up as the MC spoke. "The show stopping, crowd pleasing Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllvvvvv vvvvvvvvvvvviiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiinnnnnnnnnnn…." He couldn't hear the end of the introduction because the crowd was screaming so loudly.

The stage went black for a moment and purple spot lights began to flash. When the beat dropped, the audience went crazy.

_**Na na na  
Come on  
Na na na  
Come on  
Na na na na na  
Come on  
Na na na  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
**_

The lights pulsated with the beat for a moment. Then, the stage went black. When the first words of the song rang out, the purple spotlights were fixed on a single spot on the stage; the spot where Kurt was posed. He had one hand on his hip while his other hung lifelessly by his side.

_**Feels so good being bad  
There's no way I'm turning back  
Now the pain is my pleasure  
Cause nothing could measure**_

Kurt strutted to the brass pole in the middle of the stage; the tails of his tuxedo oversized tuxedo jacket flapped behind him as his hips swayed. He spun around the pole a few times before stopping with his back to the audience. He slid his hands down the pole until he was completely bent over, giving the audience a perfect view of his ass. The cheers were deafening.

_**Cause I may be bad  
But I'm perfectly good at it  
Sex in the air  
I don't care  
I love the smell of it  
Sticks and stones  
May break my bones  
But chains and whips  
Excite me**_

Kurt popped back up, still facing away from the audience, and began to unbutton his tuxedo jacket. He swayed his hips to the beat of the song and slid the jacket down his shoulders. The crowd grew rowdier as he did so. Once it was hanging from his wrists, he pulled it off and tossed it aside. He then grabbed the pole and began to twirl once more.

It wasn't a complicated dance because this wasn't about the dance. It was about the outfit he'd chosen. He knew that would earn him more cash than an intricate dance would any day.

* * *

_**Na na na na**_

_**Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it**_

Blaine sat on the edge of his seat as Kurt climbed the pole. Watching Kurt work was amazing. He was limber and agile. From the way he twirled around the pole gracefully to the way he hung from it by only the crook of his knee. It was an outstanding sight.

The pharmacist leaned closer to the stage as Kurt, who had climbed most of the way up the pole, wrapped his thighs around the brass structure. _They're really smooth! His hands. Smooth __**hands**__!_ He leaned in again when Kurt's ankles locked and the dancer let himself fall backwards; held up only by the muscles in his legs.

**Love is great, love is fine  
Out the box, out of line  
The affliction of the feeling  
Leaves me wanting more**

Slowly, Kurt trailed his hand from his belly button to the collar of the shirt. He used his long, lithe fingers to undo the buttons of the dress shirt. _And damn if he doesn't know what unbuttoning buttons does to me. I can't even unbutton my work shirt without thinking about that night. _

As the buttons were unfastened, Blaine and the other patrons began to notice strips of something crossing the performer's chest. Quickly, Blaine turned away. He crossed his legs and willed the growing sensation in his pants to go away.

For weeks, Kurt went on and on about the New Year's Eve show and how he always did something outrageous to ring it in. Blaine didn't even know what Kurt had planned but he knew it was amazing. _And sexy. Not sexy. Well, yeah, sexy!_

_**Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it**_

Kurt, still hung upside down on the pole, ripped the last buttons away and opened the shirt. Insane wasn't a descriptive enough term to describe the audience's reaction. Six straps connected to a single, metal ring, ran across Kurt's chest at an angle. It left nothing to the imagination. Every customer in the room could see the say the straps tugged against the dancer's muscles as they stretched the reach the ring that was centered just above his belly button.

_**S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  
S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M**_

Blaine uncrossed and re-crossed his legs. _Yeah, I've got a boner for that top. Huge boner. Not that I'm saying I'm huge. Well, not that I'm saying I'm not huge._ Again, he leaned forward and watched Kurt slide the shirt off and reached beneath him to grab the pole. _All this pole talk._

* * *

Kurt reached for the pole and grasped it firmly in his hands. He then released the death grip his legs had on the allowed them to fall to the side into a split, before bringing them down to the ground once more. The crowd loved it. They were tossing dollar bills at him like it was the law. _Give me your tired, your hungry, your dollar bills…_

As slowly and seductively as he could, Kurt undid the belt that held up his tuxedo pants. The song was nearing its end and he was ready to flatten his money and count it.

_**Oh  
I love the feeling  
You bring to me  
Oh, you turn me on  
It's exactly what  
I've been yearning for  
Give it to me strong**_

Belt undone, Kurt ripped it from the loops of his pants and twirled it in the air as hips swayed to the music. _**  
**_

_**And meet me in my boudoir  
Make my body say ah, ah, ah**_

Playfully, he whipped the belt at the stage, revealing in the cracking noise that accompanied each strike against the hardwood floor.

_**I like it  
Like it**_

* * *

It happened so fast that Blaine couldn't stop it. Kurt was fiddling with the fly on his pants and the next thing Blaine knew Kurt was touching himself. Like…all over. One minute, the dancer was undoing his pants and the next his hands were roaming the milky expanse of his torso and his fingers were tweaking his tiny, strawberry nipples. _I've decided they probably taste like strawberry ice cream. Don't judge me. Strawberry ice cream is delicious. Not that I'm thinking about what Kurt's nipples taste like. Because I'm not!_

The pharmacist closed his eyes and attempted to slow the beating of his heart. It was pounding double time against his ribcage. _That can't be healthy._

He only opened his eyes when the cheers and catcalls became so loud that he couldn't resist. Slowly, he allowed one of his eyes to creep open. Big mistake! Gone were the oversized tuxedo pants, only to be replaced by a pair of tiny, tiny underwear. _Is that a zipper on the front? Why would you need a zipper on the front of –OH!_

_**Cause I may be bad  
But I'm perfectly good at it  
Sex in the air  
I don't care  
I love the smell of it  
Sticks and stones  
May break my bones  
But chains and whips  
Excite me**_

Kurt danced around the stage teasing the audience with the prospect of unzipping his underwear and showing them what he was really made of.

_**S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  
S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  
S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  
S...S...S**_

_**And  
M...M...M**_

He ended with a split and a blown kiss the audience. _Thank God that's over!_

* * *

"Did you like the show, Blaine? Oh my God. You have no idea how much money I made off that!" Kurt gushed once they were outside. The club was closing and everyone was heading home. Kurt and Blaine, much to the latter's excitement, were heading to McDonalds. _Because, McNuggets, bitch!_

Blaine cleared his throat awkwardly, trying not to answer the question. He kind of wanted to forget the show. If he didn't, he would be hard for days. That wasn't an option; regardless of how much he wanted it to be one. "Ummm..you know…" The pharmacist shrugged and turned to walk towards his car. Kurt followed quickly behind him.

"You hated it, didn't you? Was it that bad? I mean, everyone seemed to enjoy it and." Kurt sounded hurt. If Blaine didn't know any better, he would have thought that his opinion on the show was really important to Kurt. _He wouldn't care about my opinion on something like this. Right? _"The outfit was too much, wasn't it?"

"What? No! I'm sorry," Blaine quickly interjected, "the performance was great and the outfit wasn't too much. I was…distracted, that's all."

Kurt sighed in relief as he climbed into his friend's car. "Great. I really wanted you to like it. I mean, they liked it, but you always look past the raunchiness of it and focus on the actual dancing and stuff. They just see sex ."

"Yeah…" A lame answer but Blaine couldn't tell Kurt that he'd detoured at the restroom on his way out. The very packed restroom that sounded like mating season at the zoo once Kurt's performance was finished.

"Good. At least you liked it. Oh, and that other guy." There was a hint of playfulness in Kurt's voice.

Blaine pulled out of his parking space and drove through the parking lot. "Who?" He asked as he merged into oncoming traffic. He wanted to know who else liked the performance. Why was Kurt so concerned about said other guy? _Why do I care that he's concerned about said other guy?_

"I don't know. I do know that he paid for me to perform at his party next weekend. I get four grand after Will's cut; or at least that's what Will said when he pulled me aside to tell me about it. I'm so excited. Do you know what this will do for my New York fund? With your check and this…holy crap!"

"What kind of party?" Blaine asked absently as he switched lanes. What kind of party needed strippers? _Certainly no party I've ever been too._

"A bachelor party."

* * *

**A/N: The song Blaine is singing while he's getting ready is 'Swag Surfin'' by F.L.Y.**

**I've put up another pole. (See what I did there?) It's on my profile page. It'll probably stay up until early next week so vote now! I've got plans (weird right) so I probably won't update for another couple of weeks. I may update In The Heat of The Night and possibly In Absentia in that time, but not this one. I have to know which song you guys choose before I write the chapter. ;)**

**Review. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: To the anon that left the last review, I bow down to you! I bless this review. As voted, the song for this chapter was "Milkshake" – Kelis. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. It means the world to me to get your feedback. **

**Shoutout to my beta and all the lucky bitches that get to hang out with me tomorrow. I kid! I kid!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own shit. **

**Warnings: Douche baggery!**

* * *

"Focus, Blaine!" Kurt shouted for the millionth time. He grabbed the remote from the end table and used it to turn off the stereo system. "This party is a huge deal! I need to make sure my dance is worth it! So, stop giggling."

The pharmacist broke into a fresh round of chuckles when he looked at his friend's face. Kurt's attempt at seriousness was humorous. "Come on, Kurt! I am being serious. Now get over here and dance like your life depends on it." Blaine reclined back in the chair they'd grabbed from the kitchen table and waited for his 'boyfriend' to start again. Kurt was practicing a lap dance for the bachelor party he was working and he decided to use Blaine as his play customer. _I'm not opposed._

With one last glare at the elder man, Kurt restarted the track and strutted back to where he'd placed Blaine's chair.

_**My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,  
And they're like  
It's better than yours,  
Damn right it's better than yours,  
I can teach you,  
But I have to charge**_

Kurt crawled up Blaine's legs and straddled the pharmacist's lap. It didn't take long for him to realize that the dance wasn't going to last. Blaine was already fighting back a hard luck case of the giggles. He knew Blaine wasn't laughing at him, per se, so it was just as well. He would start over if his friend started to laugh. If they had to start over a million times, they would do it. _I'm going to get through this entire routine if it kills him!_

Legs spread across his friend's lap; he used his height to his advantage and positioned himself on the tips of his toes. He watched as Blaine gripped the seat until his knuckles turned white. Maybe it was the way that his belly danced in the pharmacist's face, pelvis writhing and thrusting in Blaine's line of sight, or maybe it was the way he ran his hands lightly through his friend's graying hair. Either way, Blaine wasn't laughing anymore. _Take that, bitch!_

With a grace that only years of dance classes provided, Kurt was able to swing his leg over Blaine's head and turn himself around. He rested his legs gingerly between the elder's legs and began to grind down onto his friend's lap. Unexpectedly, he felt the professor's cock jump. _That's right! Take that!_ He shifted his weight, applying more pressure to his friend's lap.

Blaine groaned and shifted in the chair. _Win!_ It was a game of teasing, not of pleasing. Blaine needed to learn a lesson about laughing during practice and Kurt was willing to teach it.

_**I know you want it,  
The thing that makes me,  
What the guys go crazy for.  
They lose their minds,  
The way I wind,  
I think it's time**_

The performer used his thighs to push Blaine's legs open and threw his arms back and around his friend's neck. It felt nice. Blaine was a comfortable person and that made practicing with him easy. That's also what made it difficult. Kurt never practiced routines, he just did them. He conjured them up and danced them out. He wanted to pretend he was preparing for the bachelor party –something that was terribly foreign to him- but he knew that wasn't the reason. He just liked…dancing for Blaine. It was as simple as that. It was also as scary as that. _Why is the prospect of busting it wide open for Blaine so appealing to me?_ It was a question for another day.

He let the question fall from his mind and rested his head rested back on the pharmacist's shoulder. It felt safe. Everything about Blaine felt safe. The way his feet were positioned, he could fall at any time, but he knew Blaine wouldn't let him. Blaine would never let him fall. Kurt rolled his hips and ground back until there wasn't an ounce of space left between him. Again, he felt it; Blaine's cock rubbing against the crack of his ass. Foreign territory. Almost a year of giving lap dances desensitized him to the feeling of a cock against his ass. He felt Blaine's though. Long and hard, pressed against the crevice that separated his cheeks. Momentary panic raced through his body. _Please don't get hard too!_ He willed himself. He was sure he'd lost the battle until he heard it; a giggle.

A fucking giggle.

_**La la-la la la,  
Warm it up.  
Lala-lalala,  
The boys are waiting**_

Before Blaine knew what hit him, Kurt was on his feet and scowling. "What the hell, Blaine? It was going so well! I was almost done!" _In more ways than you know!_ He shouted, hands on his hips. Blaine bit his lip in an attempt to control his laughter. It was obviously a tall order because, moments later, a hearty, belly laugh burst from the pharmacist's lips.

"Your-Your," he attempted between hearty chuckles. "Your-mouth. Your mouth is just open. What if he spits in it?" The dancer let his head lull backwards and rolled his eyes. _Really? Is that what's so funny? _

"That was my sexy face!" He groaned, head still thrown back in frustration. Frustration for the dance that he wasn't practicing was all that he felt. He wasn't disappointed in the slight because friends said things like that. And that's what they were. Friends. _F-R-I-E-N-D-S. Like the show. Shit. Didn't they sleep together a lot? Dammit. _

"It looked more like an invitation face. 'Hey, I'm Kurt. Wanna spit in my mouth?'" Blaine chuckled. Kurt shook his head and grabbed the remote for the stereo. He 'accidentally' wacked Blaine in the back of the head before restarting the track.

"Chuckle it up, bitch!" He waited as Blaine's laughing to subside. "Great! Are you done?" The pharmacist nodded. He was done. _For now._ "Good! From the top!"

* * *

The week passed quickly and, before Kurt knew it, he was stepping into a house a few streets over from his. He'd parked around the corner because there were dozens of cars parked along the street in front of the house. "You must be the dancer, Kalvin?" Kurt nodded. _Yep, that's me! _"Great! I'm David. I'll show you to a room where you can get ready."

Kurt followed the dark skinned man through the house. After being eye molested by a few of the party goers, they reached a room at the end of the hall. "You can do whatever you need in there. It's up to you." Again, the dancer nodded. He wasn't nervous, per se. He was anxious. He wanted to see if dancing at a house party was as lucrative as dancing at the club. _Not that it matters. If all goes well, Rachel and I will be in New York by the end of the week._

"Does he, the fiancé, have any special requests or whatever? Do you know anything that he'd like….for me to do?" He asked. "Not sexually though." Adding that part was a big deal_._ He asked a customer at the club that once during a private dance and he got an entire story on how the overweight trucker liked to have things shoved up his ass.

David looked towards the ceiling, as if trying not to meet Kurt's gaze. He was hiding something, Kurt was sure of it. "Well, there is one thing." The man replied hesitantly. Whatever it was, Kurt was sure he wasn't going to like it. _They're going to try and spank me. Since that time that Santana hit me so hard that she left a bruise on my ass, I haven't liked that shit._

"What?"

"Well…..he….he's got this things for blindfolds and….well…the guys and I were wondering how you felt about us blindfolding you during the dance." _No. Just….no._ Then he remembered how much they were paying him. They were busting out the big bucks.

"Ummm…how will I get out there?" He could dance blindfolded but how the hell was he supposed to navigate the house without his sense of sight?

"I'll come get you and take you to him." Kurt nodded and agreed. _Why the hell not?_ As the man walked away, Kurt noticed something about him. He seemed familiar, but from where? They hadn't gone to school together and he didn't look like one of his club regulars. Then, like a lightning bolt searching him out, it struck him. It was the hoodie. The Hollister hoodie from the club. That's what he recognized.

* * *

"Thanks for letting me borrow your hoodie, Sebastian. I don't know why, but I'm freezing." Sebastian rolled his eyes but offered the man a smile. He really hated his fiancé's old classmates. They were so boring. All they wanted to do was laugh about the old days and comment on how Jeremiah used to interact with Blaine. It was sickening. It was just as well though. By the end of the night, they'd be talking about another topic. He couldn't wait. "Is the dancer ready?" He asked David before taking a sip of his mixed drink.

The man nodded enthusiastically. "Jeremiah is going to love him. Honestly, I think I love him. If I wasn't married and…ya know straight and what not, I'd be all up on that." Sebastian rolled his eyes. It seemed as if he'd be doing a lot of that until his unveiling.

"Yeah."

"That's what I'm saying! He was….goddamn he looked good!"

"Yeah."

* * *

A knock sounded at the door a short time later. Luckily, Kurt was ready for it. His black blindfold was ties snuggly around his eyes and the black body suit he was wearing clung nicely to his body. He was so ready. _Money, money, money!_ "Come in." He answered.

"Damn boy!" David, if he remembered correctly, man's eyes roaming his body. _Yeah, I know I look good._ "Yeah…ummm…" David stuttered, embarrassed because he was caught. "Ummm…I'll just…yeah….I'm about to grab your arm and lead you out. Yeah…"

Kurt waved his hands around in the dark until he felt a hand grab his forearm. It led him out of the room and into the masses. It was loud; unreasonably loud for a house. People were whistling and cat calling all around him. He felt at home. He loved being hit on.

The pair came to a stop in the midst of the madness. "Calm down, guys." David shouted over the cheers. "Yes, this beautiful piece of man is here as a gift to our Warbler brother; Warbler Myers. So, if Wes will hit the music, we can watch this fine man unwrap himself." Again, the cheers were deafening.

_**So hot  
Out the box  
Can you pick up the pace?  
Turn it up,  
Heat it up  
I need to be entertained  
Push the limit  
Are you with it?  
Baby, don't be afraid  
I'm a hurt 'ya real good, baby**_

Once he was led to his customer, Kurt felt his way down the man's legs and back up again. As quickly as the tempo moved, he straddled the man's lap and let his hips do the talking. The jiggled and gyrated in a way that made the man moan.

In a dancing sense, it felt right, but Kurt felt like it was so wrong. It wasn't right. The song was perfect. He really wanted to dance to 'Milkshake' but this song fit the situation more nicely. The outfit was flawless. It showed off his finer assets. It felt wrong though. He continued to dance, however.

_**I'm a hold ya down until you're amazed  
Give it to ya 'til you're screaming my name**_

**_No escaping when I start_**  
**_Once I'm in I own your heart_**  
**_There's no way you'll ring the alarm_**  
**_So hold on until it's over_**

**_Oh, do you know what you got into?_**  
**_Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?_**  
**_'Cause it's about to get rough for you_**  
**_I'm here for your entertainment_**

As he jiggled his weight on the man's lap, he realized why he wasn't faring well. It was Blaine. Blaine was the reason it felt wrong. Since he'd begun dancing for his friend, it never felt right to dance for anyone else. Regardless of how long he'd known the customer, no one's lap held his weight quite like Blaine's did. No one's legs felt as strong and no one's stilted breathes sounded quite as enticing. It was all different and never right. It was wrong. All wrong.

* * *

Blaine was late. He had a million and one excuses but only one was the truth. He was late because Kurt wasn't there to tell him what to wear. Instead, Kurt was working. So, Blaine was left to figure out which socks went with his outfit alone. It was nerve wrecking.

In the end, he ended up at the house Sebastian gave him directions to an hour late. It was okay though. It was the first Warbler gathering in almost four years and they tended to party all night. Being a little late wouldn't hurt anything.

He knocked on the door and was ecstatic to see that it was Wes that opened it. "Wes, buddy. I haven't seen you in years. How are you?"

Wes shook his head. "Not now, B. We'll catch up later. We're missing the show." The former head of the Warbler Council grabbed the pharmacist's arm and led him through the house. "This is the best bachelor party ever." He said as he stood on his tip toes, trying to catch another glimpse of the dancer.

_Bachelor Party?_ It only took a moment for the situation to register. Pushing past the party goers, Blaine found himself face to face with a blindfolded Kurt. He was dancing erotically on Jeremiah's lap; smiling as he did so. "Kurt?"

* * *

Everything in the room went quiet in an instant. With the exception of the music, not a sound was heard. Kurt stilled the moment his name was called. He knew that voice. Slowly, he stood from the lap he was bouncing in and lifted the blindfold from his eyes. There, not a full three feet in front of him, was Blaine. He looked petrified.

Slowly, Kurt let his gaze fall over the rest of the room. He didn't recognize any of them, with the exception of David. "Bl-?" He began. He was quickly cut off by the sound of another voice.

"I spent a lot of money for you to dance for my fiancé, Kurt. I would appreciate if you could continue without interruption." Sebastian made his way through the crowd as he spoke. It didn't matter, however. Kurt recognized his voice the moment he opened his mouth. He also recognized the fact that Sebastian called him Kurt rather than Kalvin.

"Wait.. your fiancé?" The performer asked. _Oh no! Oh no!_ Slowly, the performer turned to the man in the chair. Still blindfolded and refusing to hide his boner, was Jeremiah.

"Where's my dancer? I thought this was a bachelor party, guys!"

Sebastian walked to the back of the chair and slowly lifted the blindfold from his fiancé's eyes. "Look, baby. I told you there was something about Blaine's boyfriend." Jeremiah's eyes went wide for a moment before settling into the smile that was forming on his face. It was too good.

"Kalvin? What are you doing here?" He asked playfully. Kurt took a breath, a live or let die kind of breath, before attempting to respond. Unfortunately, Sebastian cut him off.

"No, babe." He purred into his fiancé's ear. "His name is Kurt. See, your ex is so pathetic that he hired a down on his luck whore to play his boyfriend. The only thing that could have made this story sweeter was if he paid him." It was impossible to miss the way Blaine stiffened at the words. He was a statue. His chest didn't even rise and fall with each breathe he took. From what Kurt could tell, he wasn't breathing. He was frozen. "Oh my God, you did. You paid him to play your boyfriend. Did you pay him to sleep with you as well?"

Tears welled in Blaine's eyes. It was awful. Never in a million years did he expect their arrangement to be outed in such a way. Maybe, years down the line, he could joke about it, but not while it was happening. "Ummm…"

"That's not what happened." Kurt insisted, pulling attention from his friend. "He didn't…"

"Yes he did." Jeremiah jumped in. He then tore his gaze away from the dancer and placed it on his ex-husband. "That's kind of pathetic, Blaine." That was it; the proverbial straw. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, the pharmacist tore through the crowd and out of the house.

Kurt shot a scowl in Sebastian's direction before running after Blaine. He would always run after Blaine. _And damn if that isn't a terrifying thought._

* * *

He was caught. Everyone knew. It was as if the rise and fall of Blaine Anderson happened in a single moment. Everyone knew he had a boyfriend and they were happy for him. It only lasted moments. Now that they all knew that their relationship was a fraud, they were disappointed. He was the reason for their disappointment. He felt shamed.

Tears flowed like angry rivers down his face. They didn't stop for breaks and they bore no mind to his situation. Just like most people in his life, they didn't care. Tears were cold like that.

The pharmacist did his best to unlock his Prius but failed. He was shaking too hard to press the right button. "Blaine!" The pharmacist tried to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, like a bad song on the radio that he couldn't find the strength to turn off; again, it didn't work. Kurt's voice was growing closer with each passing moment. "Blaine, wait." Suddenly, Kurt was right behind him, placing a kind hand on top of his own, bringing the keys away from the door.

"I want to go home, Kurt." The pharmacist sobbed. He felt his friend nod into his back. "I just want to get out of here. I'm so embarrassed.

"Then let's go home." _Your house. Let's go to your house. It's not my home, but I'm starting to wish it was._ "We'll bust open your liquor cabinet and get drunk until we can't remember tonight…or until we can't feel feelings. You know, whichever happens first."

Blaine's tears subsided long enough for him to chuckle. Kurt always had an answer; even if it was an unconventional one. "Getting drunk won't fix this. This is….I don't know. This is….just….fuck, I don't know. It's just….bad."

"But why is it bad? So they know? Who cares? We're still friends. That's all that matters right?"

Slowly, the pharmacist turned from his car and looked his friend in the eyes. They looked so loving, so caring. They looked like he could get lost in them and it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't mind being sucked into Kurt's eyes for eternity. _I'm sure it's comfy there._ "It matters because I went to school with those guys. Now they all know. And…"

"And it's not a big deal. I know you're embarrassed, but don't be. Life happens. You can either take what it has to offer –rewards and consequences alike- or you can lock yourself away and let it pass you by." The dancer lifted his hands to his friend's face and used his thumbs to wipe his tears away.

"Words from your mother?"

"No. I actually heard that one on television." They shared a momentary laugh before letting the silence consume them. It was Kurt that spoke first. "So, do you want to go get white boy wasted or not? We'll be hung over as all fuck tomorrow, but it'll be worth it."

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

**A/N: Big things to come. (Look, I made a funny!) As you all can see, I used 'For Your Entertainment' –Adam Lambert as the Jerbastard (Trademark Nellie12, inc.) bachelor party song. Another poll is up now, so go vote! BE MINDFUL! THE NEXT CHAPTER IS AN IMPORTANT ONE AND IT CAN GO A FEW DIFFERENT WAYS DEPENDING ON WHAT SONG YOU GUYS SELECT. (I keep wanting to write 'pole' rather than 'poll').**

**Thanks so much to Windsor for beta'ing this chapter. Can't wait for our weekend. So excited! **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: A million thanks to Windsor for beta'ing the fuck out of this one. You're amazing, doll. **

**Based on your votes, the chapter song is 'Nice and Slow' - Usher. **

**Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, alerting, etc. It's 6 am and I didn't reread this. Please forgive any mistakes because we're only human. **

**Onward ye go. **

* * *

"I'm going to jail, Kurt! I'm going to jail!" The pharmacist shouted as he staggered through the living room. He was drunk; so drunk. "They're going to rape me! Do you understand what I'm telling you? I'm getting arrested!"

Kurt fell back against the arm of the couch and let out a hearty laugh. He was drunk too. His plan to make all the pain from early go away –even if only temporarily- had worked. He and Blaine were officially so drunk that they couldn't feel feelings. "Why are you going to jail, Blaine?" The dancer asked when his giggles subsided.

"I gave you alcohol. I got you drunk. Do you know what they do to people like me in jail? People who give alcohol to minors?" He asked; not a hint of joking in his voice. Kurt laughed, however. _Everything is funny when you're drunk._

"They'd high five you because they used to do the same thing."

"No! They rape me. I'm going to get raped in jail. Or worse, your dad is going to hear about this and he's going to kill me. And all of this is happening because I got you drunk. What was I thinking?" Nervously, Blaine began to pace about the room. _I have to figure out a way to avoid Burt. Shit._

"But he's dead!"

Blaine stopped his pacing and stared at his friend with wide eyes. "That makes it worse, Kurt! How am I supposed to hide from a ghost? They can go anywhere! ANYWHERE!"

"I'll protect you!" Kurt held his arms open and watched as Blaine dashed across the room into them. Drunk or not, he enjoyed having Blaine close. The pair cuddled on the couch until they heard the doorbell rang. Neither knew how long they were there, but they knew it was too soon to get up. "Are you going to get that?" He asked, not moving his head from its rested position on top of Blaine's head.

The pharmacist groaned and shook his head. "Go away." He shouted. _It's probably just Quinn and Santana. _"We're having boy cuddles."

"Open the door, B. It's David." Kurt felt his friend stiffen in his arms. Slowly, each unpleasant feeling from the evening began to sink back in; the pain, hurt, discomfort. They all came back with a vengeance. "Please, B. I got you a present. It's a good one too."

"What is it?" He had to know. Everyone loved present and, if it was worth it, he would get off the couch and open the door. Embarrassment be damned.

"You have to open the door to find out." Blaine sighed. Now he had to know. Slowly, he untangled himself from Kurt's body, receiving a supportive smile from the young man, and climbed off the couch. As quickly as his wary feet would carry him, Blaine headed towards the door. He took a deep breath just before opening it.

David and a group of his Warbler brothers were waiting for him at the door. He looked at each of them, trying to find out which had his gift. "Where's my present?" He asked, eyes still scanning the group.

Wes, one of his former best friends, rolled his eyes. "We're your present, Blaine. You ran out so quickly that we didn't get to really spend time with you. So…" He shrugged and motioned to the group behind him, "here we are."

"Did Jeremiah send you? Are you guys here to laugh at me some more? I heard you guys." The pharmacist replied defensively.

"You didn't hear us laughing at shit!" Thad shouted. Obviously Blaine's accusations had offended him. "You ran out and we ripped those guys a new one." The others in the group nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, Blaine," This time, it was Trent that spoke, "regardless of what was going on, you didn't deserve that. Neither did you friend. You guys are friends, right? You seemed quite friendly."

"Oh they're friends alright!" David laughed. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows at the man, but said nothing. "Anyways, we decided to ditch that party and come hang out with a good friend. Can we come in?"

"So, I don't get a real present? It's just you guys?" He was let down. He really wanted a gift.

"We've got beer!" Wes supplied, holding up a case of bottles.

Blaine stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. "Well then get in here! Come join the festivities."

* * *

The once quiet occasion was now a lively party. Blaine was no longer afraid of going to jail; his time now preoccupied by the throngs of people in his house and the bottle in his hand. Kurt sat back and smiled at him from across the room. It was a magnificent sight. As long as they'd been friends, he'd only seen Blaine's smile stretch from ear to ear on a few occasions. It was nice to see the elder enjoying himself.

"….and I was thinking maybe you and I could…ya know." _Oh, crap. That's right_. Kurt turned back to West –or was it East- who was talking his ear off. "Maybe light a fire? You could dance for me?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and sipped on his water. After the guys came in, he decided to sober up a bit. "How would your wife feel about that?" The man stiffened and then offered his apologies. "That's what I thought."

When Kurt looked up again, Blaine was staring at him. He offered a smile and a wave; both were returned promptly. "Excuse me, West. I'm going to go talk to Blaine."

"It's Wes. Not West." Kurt was already crossing the room, however. Wes hung his head and sighed. _Always a bridesmaid; never a bride._

"Are you having a good time?" Kurt asked, staring into his friend's warm eyes. Blaine nodded eagerly. "Good. I'm glad."

"The only thing that I worry about is the money you were supposed to get. Do you still get it?" Blaine questioned. Honestly, Kurt had no idea. It was just as well. He and Rachel had quite a bit of money saved up, so they would be fine until they found employment.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter though. I'm just glad that its all over and you're okay."

"Let me give you the money." Blaine offered, nearly cutting off his friend's sentence.

"Absolutely not. You've done far too much for me. Besides, Rachel and I will be fine."

"Come on, Kurt! This was all my fault. Let me give it to you. I have it. I'll write you another check." Again, Kurt shook his head. He wasn't taking any more money from Blaine. Not a single red cent. "Please! I really want to do this for you. I care for you so much and…I just want you to be happy in New York."

Kurt wanted to believe him, he really did, but it was difficult when Blaine was slurring like a sailor and he could only hold his eyes open half-mast. He liked the idea of Blaine caring about him, but he knew it was the alcohol talking. Blaine probably cared about him, but not for him. "Mind if I make a suggestion?" David asked, startling the two men.

"Yes."

"No."

They answered simultaneously. "Since Blaine said yes and he's older than you, I'm going with yes." David smiled at them triumphantly. "Since Blaine wants to throw money at you and the guys and I are dying to see you dance, why don't you dance for Blaine and let us pay you. Then, technically, he's not giving you money and we get to watch you dance." David's eyes danced up and down Kurt's body in a way that made the dancer only slightly uncomfortable. If he remembered correctly, Blaine told him that all of his high school friends were straight. They seemed a bit 'free love' in Kurt's opinion.

"No."

"Yes." Kurt liked the idea. Then he wouldn't feel bad about taking the money but he still got to take the money. It was a win win. Also, Blaine got another lap dance and the guys got to watch. _Everyone wins and nothing hurts._

"Sorry, B. Since I want to watch his clothes fall off, I'm going with him on this one." Blaine sunk backwards half-heartedly. He didn't want Kurt to feel obligated, but he did want a lap dance. _God, I love having my lap danced on. That doesn't sound right….yes it does. _

"Great! I'm going to go put something together and then I'm going to make you beg for it." Kurt teased as he traipsed towards Blaine's room.

"Damn, B. He looked like he was going to eat you alive."

"I hope so." Blaine whispered absently as David spread the news throughout the room.

* * *

Kurt's head spun when he saw Blaine's bedroom. As often as he'd been to Blaine's house, he'd never been inside the bedroom. It was amazing. Blaine's bed was huge. It was made of cherry wood and had four large pillars that darted from each side. It was made to perfection.

On the matching night stands on each side, there were books and magazines. Vogue. _My heart!_ Blaine had all the latest editions as well as each of the Harry Potter books; each with a bookmark sticking out. Apparently, he was reading them all simultaneously.

Ten minutes or so after he entered the room, Kurt stood in front of the full length mirror in Blaine's bathroom. _I'm doing a total closet makeover on him._ He thought as he stared at himself. The suit was a few sizes too big, meaning that it was way too big on Blaine. _Extreme makeover._ It would serve his purpose, however. If Blaine insisted on giving him the money –_the money Rachel and I could really use to make the deposit on the apartment she found_- then he was going to earn it.

A knock sounded at the door just as Kurt was buttoning the oversized suit jacket. "Come in." he shouted, not taking his eyes off the mirror version of himself.

"It's just me." David said as he walked into the room. "I wanted to know if you had any idea what song you wanted us to play." Kurt turned to him and smiled.

"Sure do. 'Nice and Slow' by Usher. It's my go-to 'get money' song." David nodded as Kurt spoke.

"Cool, I'll put it on when you get out there."

"Thanks, David." The man smiled.

"No, thank you."

* * *

Blaine's knee bounced as he waited patiently on the couch for Kurt to come out. _This is a bad idea. I'm just going to give him the money._ He didn't want Kurt to dance for his money. In his mind, it was different than when Kurt danced at the club and the single time Kurt used him to practice. He couldn't figure out why, but he had an underlying feeling that something was going to happen and he wanted to avoid it; whatever it was.

Unfortunately, some things couldn't be avoided. "Alright, B. Get in the king's chair!" Wes motioned towards the overstuffed chair that his friends pulled to the middle of the room. With a sigh, Blaine pulled himself off the couch and padded to the chair. There was no point in resisting. Kurt was as hardheaded as any Warbler in the room, so he would dance even if Blaine told him not to and the guys would love it regardless.

Blaine plopped down on the chair and planted his feet on the ground. A moment later, the lights in the room went out and David shined a desk lamp towards him. _They must be ready to start._

When Kurt exited the room, Blaine nearly snickered. Kurt was wearing one of his suits and it was way too big. He looked great though. Kurt always looked amazing. He watched as his friend strutted towards him. It was sobering, or maybe intoxicating. There was a light that shone around him as he walked. It was so bright that Blaine could barely see the rest of the people in the room. _Yup, definitely intoxicating._

"Ready?" Kurt whispered when he was close enough for Blaine to hear. The pharmacist nodded. For the first time, Blaine realized how much he liked Kurt's voice. It fluctuated in ways that Blaine had never heard in a voice. Sometimes it was high and excited, while others it was low and sultry. "Good. Hit it, David." Kurt called over his shoulder.

Blaine looked over his friend's shoulder and saw David smirk. _Oh no. I think they've got something outrageous plan. I hope I don't pass out. _He'd been close a few times –_like when that jerk danced to that song in the outfit with all those buttons. I still can't unbutton my shirt without getting an erection_-but never actually passed out. He wasn't sure if he would be able to say that after tonight.

The music started and Blaine recognized the song instantly. _He's going to be the death of me_. He watched as his friend swayed lightly on his feet, rubbing his hand over the gray fabric of his suit blazer. In time with the first set of lyrics, Kurt dropped to the balls of his feet and gyrated his hips between Blain's spread knees.

_**It's seven o' clock  
On the dot  
I'm in my drop top  
Cruisin the streets - oh yeah  
I gotta real pretty - pretty little thang that's waiting for me**_

* * *

Kurt looked up from beneath his lashes at his friend. He smirked and watched as Blaine gulped. Whether it was the alcohol or the dance, Blaine was in a trance; his trance. It was exhilarating. At times, Kurt felt like a hypnotist, pulling people in with a few flirty looks and meaningful smirks and then keeping them there with hip rolls and pelvic movements.

Kurt rubbed his hands along Blaine's thighs. They were firm in ways that Kurt never noticed before. Slowly, the dancer pushed his behind into the air, putting it on view for the men behind him. Shouts and catcalls rang out in the room. Kurt barely noticed, however. The moment he and Blaine made eye contact, he was gone.

_**Let me take you to a place nice and quiet  
There ain't no one there to interrupt  
Ain't gotta rush**_

Slowly, Kurt slid his hands up from Blaine's thighs. As much he loved the feeling of Blaine's leg muscles under his palms, he wanted to feel the rest of him. His hands crept up Blaine's abs and up to his chest. Just as Blaine's head lulled backwards, Kurt lowered himself down onto his friend's lap; knees positioned on either side of the pharmacist.

_**I just want to take it nice and slow  
(now baby tell what you wanna do with me)  
See I've been waiting for this for so long  
We'll be makin' love until the sun comes up**_

_**Baby  
I just wanna take it nice and slow  
(now baby tell what you wanna do with me)**_

* * *

Blaine held his breath as Kurt began to undo the buttons on his jacket. _Fucking buttons_. One by one, the buttons unfastened and it became evident that Kurt wasn't wearing a shirt. As the jacket slid from Kurt's slender shoulders, Blaine studied the contours of his friend's body. Obviously he'd looked before, but not as intricately as he was doing now. He studied the way Kurt's shoulders jutted out from his body in a commanding way and he studied the way Kurt's skin was slightly flushed near his neck. _I haven't studied this hard since college._

_**Girl you got me sayin'  
My, my, my, - My  
I wish that I - I  
Could pull over  
And get this thing started right now  
I wanna do something freaky to you baby**_

Kurt ground down in a way that called the lion out to play. It happened a million times before but this was different. Slowly, people were disappearing from sight and all Blaine could focus on was Kurt. The dancer was beautiful in ways that Blaine couldn't describe; ways that he didn't think Kurt could describe.

The moment Kurt lifted up to grind down again, Blaine made a bold move. He pulled his limp hands from the arms of the chair and slid them beneath his friend's thighs; pulling him further onto his lap. Kurt looked down on him with the baby blues that made Blaine's heart melt. They shared a smile as the younger mam ground his hips down once again. That's when Blaine felt it. Through the ill fitted dress pants, Blaine felt the outline of his friend's cock. He'd know the feeling anywhere.

* * *

Kurt was so embarrassed. He was stark, raving hard and he couldn't do anything about it. If he stopped now, everyone would know. If he didn't stop, Blaine would know. He wasn't sure which was worse. So, he continued to dance and pretended that he wasn't aware of his hard on.

_**Let me take you to a place nice and quiet  
There ain't no one there to interrupt  
Ain't gotta rush  
I just want to take it nice and slow  
(now baby tell what you wanna do with me)  
See I've been waiting for this for so long  
We'll be makin' love until the sun comes up**_

He was doing a great job until Blaine looked up at him. There was a hint of understanding in his eyes. _He knows. _Kurt started to pull away, but Blaine stopped him. He felt the pharmacist's hands travel from the backs of his thighs up to his ass. There was a firm squeeze that made the dancer's breath hitch. He'd never been touched in such a way. Blaine knew that. _So why is he touching me like this._

Kurt got his answer a moment later. As he ground down, he felt Blaine's hips buck up. There, pressed lightly just beneath his ass, was the firm outline of Blaine's dick; painfully hard, just like his own. Finally, Kurt understood. Blaine was hard and Blaine wanted him. _Oh dear._

The two created a delicious grinding rhythm as the song continued. Each time Kurt lowered himself down, Blaine bucked his hips up. It was probably too much too soon, but it felt amazing. The way their bodies slid together through the layers of clothing was enough to make Kurt want more; so much more.

So, in a moment of spontaneity, Kurt leaned forward and captured Blaine's lips. For a moment, the pharmacist didn't reciprocate. Let down that he'd misread the signs, Kurt began to pull back. He didn't get far, however. Blaine, who seemed to catch his bearings, pulled a hand away from his friend's ass and snaked it behind his friend's head; pulling him close enough to crash their lips together.

* * *

Their hips and lips moved in tandem; both rubbing against each other as if they were the last precious things on Earth. Blaine couldn't get enough of either feeling. With the exception of his hands, nothing had touched him _there_ in years and…kissing…he was a sucker for kissing.

Cautiously, Blaine let his lips slip open and he ran his tongue along his friend's lower lip. Kurt's mouth slid open instantly, allowing the pharmacist's tongue effortless access. For the first time in years, Blaine felt the fireworks that he'd always associated with beauty and love.

_**Let me take you to a place nice and quiet  
There ain't no one there to interrupt  
Ain't gotta rush  
I just want to take it nice and slow  
(now baby tell what you wanna do with me)  
See I've been waiting for this for so long  
We'll be makin' love until the sun comes up  
Baby  
I just wanna take it nice and slow  
(now baby tell what you wanna do with me)**_

The song finished without either man noticing. They'd gone from swift flicks of the tongue and hip grinding to making out and dry humping. Blaine ran his hands along Kurt's bare back, holding him as close as possible. He didn't want to go back to how he felt when Kurt wasn't rubbing around in his lap. Before he was empty and lost inside. Outside of the sexuality of the situation, having Kurt close was calming; refreshing. Kurt was new and beautiful and everything that Blaine wanted in his life.

The pair didn't pull apart until a throat cleared. Despite the sound that pulled them apart, the two didn't look away from each other. Instead they sat –one on top of the other- staring into each other's eyes. Finally, Blaine broke the silence. He shoved his intoxication to the side and soaked in the sobering moment. "Do you want to go to my room?" He asked hopefully. He really wanted to go to the room with Kurt. Even if nothing happened, he wanted to be with him in whatever capacity that Kurt would have him.

A sly smile broke out on Kurt's face. Sobered after his night of drinking, he nodded. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

**A/N: I have another poll up. Please vote. Oh...and review. I always like it when you guys review. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Chapter song, as voted by y'all, is 'It Will Rain' by Bruno Mars. A million thanks to all of you for voting, reading, REVIEWING, etc. I appreciate it. A special thanks to Windsor. Not only did she beta this chapter, but she also cowrote it. Thanks love. **

**There is another poll up. Make sure you check it out. **

* * *

Blaine planted open mouth kisses down the side of Kurt's neck, doing his best to memorize the dancer's jugular with his lips. Through the haze of lust that was consuming him; the pharmacist was barely able to make out the faint sound of harsh panting and…._whimpering?_ Against the will of his body, the elder removed his lips from the dancer's neck and sought out the sound. It wasn't hard to find. Perched on the bed, staring at them with a questioning look on his face, was Doo Wop. "Get out." Blaine hissed toward the dog.

The tiny animal scampered quickly off the bed and out the door that Blaine held open. In the moment they spent without their bodies touching, Blaine took in the situation. He was barely able to wrap his mind around the fact that he spent the past few minutes making out with his best friend. The reality of it all set in instantly. As quickly as he could, he backed away and assessed the dancer. He was flushed and panting, lips swollen from the abuse they'd just given and received. The pharmacist's heart stopped. _What am I doing?_ "Kurt….I…."

"Why did you stop?" The younger man asked. His eyes were wide with want and, more importantly, need. "I thought we were going to-"

Blaine cut him off. "Not if you don't want to." His voice came out a little higher than usual. Nerves; his nerves were out of control. He wasn't sure which way was up and which way was down. He was certain that Kurt felt the same. Thus, he wasn't going to push him. He wasn't going to force Kurt into anything that he wasn't ready for. "I mean…we were drinking earlier and…." He brought his sentence to a close with a shrug.

"I want to, Blaine. I stopped drinking a while ago and I want to share this with you. You're the most important person in my life right now and….I want to do this with you." He placed his hands on his friend's shoulders and gave them a firm shake. "I. _Want_. To do this."

That was all Blaine needed to hear. He surged forward quickly and captured the dancer's lips. He molded his body into the feeling of his friend's hands sliding down from his shoulders towards his mid back. The feeling of the young man's hands through his clothes was so amazing that Blaine couldn't begin to fathom the jolts of pleasure that would surge through his body once the skin of Kurt's palms was running down his back. It didn't take long for him before the unfathomable became a reality.

The dancer's hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt and up his back. They were warm to the touch, odd considering the fact that the younger man was usually chilled to the bone. As they danced across his back, the pharmacist directed them towards his bed. Underestimating the distance between where they were and where they were going, Kurt's knees crashed into the structure and he plummeted backwards onto it; Blaine landing on top of him. "Is this okay?" Blaine asked once their kiss was broken. Kurt nodded quickly. It was more than okay.

* * *

"Do you….ummm…do I have to take off your s-shirt?" Kurt stuttered. The pair spent more time kissing than talking. Slowly, things progressed. They were nestled in the safety of Blaine's room, blocked from the outside world by a single wooden door. The outside world wasn't what frightened Kurt. It was the progression. In the past few hours, he'd gone further with Blaine he ever imagined. It wasn't that he thought he'd be a virgin forever; it was that the way Blaine's tongue danced across the spot behind his ear made him forget the time between hitting puberty and entering Blaine's bedroom. It was the fact that the noises the elder made when he ran his hands down Kurt's shoulders made him forget how to breathe.

"You can. Or I can." Blaine whispered just before placing a tender, open mouthed kiss on the dancer's pulse point.

"Mmmm..." _When did I become a bad porn actor?_ Kurt couldn't help but moan. Blaine was different behind closed doors; in a good way. He was more outgoing and he was sure. In public, Blaine often showed signs of hesitance and discomfort. Signs of such melted away the moment the pharmacist closed the door. Blaine knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it well.

"Is that your answer?" The pharmacist joked as he made his way down the dancer's neck. Kurt tilted his head slightly, allowing for better access; access that Blaine readily took advantage of. The elder continued his descent, drizzling the skin with wet, hot kisses as he went.

Kurt's head was floating. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that his neck would be so sensitive. Each landing of Blaine's soft lips against his body sent jolts through his body. "You. Please." _Wrong answer_. In a moment, the lips that curled his toes and arched his back were gone.

Blaine pulled back instantly, balancing himself on his friend's thighs. Never one to waste time, the elder quickly reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it hastily over his head. The shirt landed in some random spot on the ground. _Where? Who knew? Who cared?_ As he reached for his pants, Kurt caught his hand. "I can help you with those." The dancer offered a hesitant smile, one that Blaine met with a beam. He nodded as he pulled his hand back. If Kurt wanted to undo his pants, who was he to argue?

Kurt's fingers fumbled with the belt before ultimately unfastening it. With the belt undone, Kurt could see how truly hard his friend was. He could make out the outline of his friends dick straining effortlessly against his slacks. _I did that_. Kurt was not an egotistical young man, but he couldn't help the swell of pride that ran through his chest as he thought about his friend's dick yearning for him. It wasn't stiff as a board because of Jeremiah or Sebastian or West or David. It was for him.

Fingers trembling, Kurt attempted to undo the button of Blaine's pants. It was a fruitless task. Each finger had its own agenda, thus none of them worked properly together. "I'll help you." Blaine slid his hand over Kurt's and guided him through the motions.

_**I'm telling you loosen up my buttons baby.**_

_Every damn time. _

The pair worked well as a team. In no time, Blaine's button was snapped and he was guiding Kurt's hand towards his zipper. The sound of his fly being unzipped reverberated throughout the room. It bounced off every wall and through every crack and crevice.

Blaine stood on the bed just enough to push his pants down mid-thigh, he then leaned forward and kicked them off his legs and, ultimately, off the bed. Without a second thought, he reached for the button on Kurt's pants –_well, my pants but still_. The way the dancer's body stiffened at his touch caused Blaine to pull back. "Kurt, what's wrong? You seem uncomfortable." Kurt laid stock still in the bed. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"S-sorry." Slowly, the reality of the situation began to set in. He was about to have sex_. Butt sex! Someone is getting something shoved in their butt tonight! _It was a frightening realization. The 'who' didn't matter, it was the 'what'. The 'what' was a dick. Before the night was up, someone was going to have an ass full of dick and Kurt wasn't sure if he could handle that. Teasing, flirting; those were things he was good at. Sex was on another level. Sex was a connection between two people. Sex was just…different. "I….sorry. I just…"

"No, sshhh…" Blaine cooed as he ran his hand through Kurt's hair. Whatever Kurt had to say, he would be there to listen. "Why are you sorry? There is nothing to be sorry about. If you want, we can get dressed and go watch Disney. And apologize to Doo Wop. We should definitely apologize to Doo Wop because we scared the crap out of him."

Kurt chuckled and offered his friend a smile. Blaine was caring in ways that the young man could barely comprehend. "I'm just nervous." He finally replied. Blaine nodded and leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

"If you want to do this, then you don't have to be nervous. It's just you and me. Kurt and Blaine. We're here, we're alone, and we're okay. If you want to do this, then I'll take care of you. I'll make sure that you never have a reason to be nervous about this again. But that's only if you want it. Like I said, if you don't-"

Kurt surged forward, capturing the elder's lips. Just like the first time they held hands, the first time they kissed, and when they'd entered the room, an excited jolt of lighting shot through the younger man's body. When he pulled back with a pop, he looked up and smiled. "I do want this. I just don't want it to be bad."

Blaine met his gaze, hazel met blue, and the pharmacist returned his smile. He knew that feeling all too well. "Nothing about you could ever be bad."

* * *

Eventually, Blaine was able to get Kurt's pants off. He sat in a haze of lust and admiration as his eyes scanned the planes of Kurt's body. He was amazing. Obviously he'd seen Kurt in barely anything before, but this was different; more intimate. Even when Kurt was down to his tiniest pair of underwear, he wasn't laying beneath the ex-Warbler begging to be worshiped. That was exactly what Blaine intended to do.

He started at the neck –_a lovely starting place if I do say so myself_- and began to work his way down the dancer's body. As he travelled, he did his best to memorize the places on Kurt's body that caused the most amazing reactions. He mentally jotted down the fact that Kurt's entire body spasmed when he kissed the tiny space just behind his ear and used his self-diagnosed photographic memory to capture a mental image of the way Kurt's entire body lifted off the bed as the dancer screamed for more when he ran his tongue over the his nipple. Blaine wanted to remember all of that and more.

"Please Blaine. Please." Kurt whined when Blaine dipped his tongue into the dancer's belly button. Gone was the insecurity that Kurt felt not too long ago. With every grunted response and teasing hand that crossed his body, the young man opened himself up to the situation; literally and figuratively. He allowed his mind to accept that he was about to lose his virginity to a man that he cared about –_likes….alot-_ as he spread himself out for Blaine to see; to have.

Once he reached the waistband of Kurt's barely there boxer briefs, Blaine laced his thumbs beneath the elastic before looking up. He needed confirmation. Kurt offered a weak smile in response. It was the approval the pharmacist needed. He quickly peeled the dancer out of his underwear and tossed them aside. "Holy shit!" He exclaimed. His eyes widening comically as they raked the dancer's bare form.

Subconsciously, Kurt curled into himself. Other than his parents, and Rachel on occasion, no one had ever seen him naked. It was unnerving.

Blaine noticed Kurt's change in demeanor. "Don't. You're…you're so beautiful. All of you." Kurt smiled and began to uncurl himself; lying out flat on the bed, thus providing the view the pharmacist was looking for.

Anxious to proceed, Blaine peeled his underwear off; again, tossing them into the abyss that was once his bedroom floor. Kurt was stunned. Considering all the time he spent in Blaine's lap –_work. Practice. Yeah…practice_- he never imagined the pharmacist to be so…endowed. Blaine's cock was thick in ways that Kurt's was long. That wasn't the only difference, however. Where Kurt was shaved completely, Blaine had a tiny patch that bordered his member. There was also the color. Kurt was pale, almost ghostly so in his opinion, but Blaine's was a tanned shade of angry red.

"Ummm…is it?" Blaine was nervous. Kurt was staring at him in ways that he couldn't comprehend. He looked scared….and predatory?

"Can I touch it?" Kurt quipped as he propped himself up on the bed and leaned closer to the pharmacist's waist. Unsure of himself, Blaine nodded. He wasn't unsure for long. The moment he felt Kurt's fingers wrapped around his cock, Blaine knew he no longer needed to be unsure because Kurt was no longer unsure. The way his hands slid from the base to the head was the mark of a pro.

"God! Kurt." Blaine moaned as he experimentally bucked his hips forward, meeting each stroke. In turn, the dancer gracefully slid his hand back towards the head, flicking his wrist as he went. "Fuck. That feels so good."

As Kurt stroked, Blaine became needier; his hips were moving of their own volition and his cries were growing louder. "Uggg…shit! Kurt. Please!"

"Please what?" The dancer asked, not slowing his hand. He was gaining momentum and enjoying the view as Blaine dick disappeared into his fist.

"P-please tell me what you want. Tell me how you want it." The pharmacist begged. There lay the problem. Kurt wasn't sure what he wanted. Time and time again, Blaine raved about how amazing it felt to bottom. Throughout ever conversation they had, Blaine preached about the amazing feeling of being full and complete. Naturally, Kurt assumed that Blaine wanted him to top._ You know what assuming does. _

Kurt began to sink back on the bed, stretching his arm with the intention of continuing his strokes. "I-I want you, I want you inside of me." He replied meekly, attempting to gauge the elder's reaction. The idea seemed far less looming than being inside of Blaine. It wasn't that he didn't want to be inside of the pharmacist –_that's so far from the truth_- it was that he wanted Blaine to lead. In their dance, he wanted Blaine to set the pace and Kurt wanted to follow.

"Mmmm." Blaine moaned as he leaned forward to capture the dancer's lips. "Whatever you want. However you want it."

Blaine batted his friend's hand away, fearful that he might finish before they started, and began to worship Kurt's legs. They were long and toned, much to be expected of a dancer, with a thin sheen of hair that covered them. He peppered light kisses on the inside of Kurt's kneecap as he worked his way up the thigh.

As he neared the brunette's crotch, Blaine became bolder; planting wet, open mouthed kisses along the inside of his thigh. Beneath him, he felt Kurt's body trembling. Not wanting to make the boy wait any longer, Blaine surged forward, bypassing areas that were best left discovered at another time, and nuzzled his face between Kurt's legs. He inhaled deeply as his senses filled with a scent that was a mixture of musk and something so indefinably Kurt that the pharmacist refused to attempt to name it. "Yes! Please!" The dancer moaned…and Blaine did.

He lapped and sucked at the skin that surrounded his friend's nether region, never quite putting his mouth in contact with the sensitive area. He knew Kurt needed it, the way the young man's cock strained was a definite indicator, but some things needed to be prolonged. Blaine had no idea if he would ever receive such an opportunity again, so planned to every moment of it. "Please! Please, Blaine."

Kurt resorted to begging. He felt the elder's nose slide against the base of his dick and he had to stop himself from crying out. The sensations were too much. Every time the elder fluttered an eyelash or flexed a cheek muscle, his body reacted. "Please." It was a last ditch effort.

Luckily, Blaine responded. From the base to the tip and back down again, Blaine licked a straight line. Kurt's hips jutted towards the feeling, causing the pharmacist to back away. Kurt caught on quickly. _Patience is a virtue._

Once was able to reign his control back in, Blaine leaned down and took the head between his lips. He sucked gingerly on the tip before sinking down as low as he could go. Kurt's head fell back as a breathy moan escaped his lips. The feeling of Blaine's mouth around his cock was amazing. Pure pleasure wrapped in a lewd act.

"IIoob." Blaine mumbled around his dick.

"Huh?" Kurt replied as he used his last morsel of willpower to keep his hips from slamming the remaining few inches into his friends mouth. Blaine grabbed Kurt's dick by the base and slid off.

"I said, get the lube. It's in the top draw." Kurt nodded and reached towards his friend's nightstand. Beneath a few issues of _**Country Living**_ –_We're going to have to discuss that_- he found a half empty bottle of lubricant. He handed to the elder before reclining back on the bed; anticipating what would happen next.

Blaine sunk down once more, enjoying the slow drag of the younger man's long dick against his tongue. He'd given blow jobs before –every day when he and Jeremiah were married – but this one was different than the rest. It was slow and lazy. Caring; just as a blow job should be.

The pharmacist flipped the top on the lubricant and poured a bit into his palm. As he sunk down once again, he slid his finger down the crease of his friend's ass towards his hole. Finding it was like finding buried treasured. It was nestled perfectly between the pert, firm halves that made up the dancer's unrealistic ass. He ran his finger over the hole, applying very little pressure. The amount of pressure didn't matter. Kurt reacted immediately. The moment the tip of Blaine's thumb slid into his heat, Kurt arched off the bed, panting the elder's name. "Fuck. Blaine. Please."

Kurt wasn't sure how he felt. It was different and…interesting. As the finger slid in, he felt full; just like Blaine said he would. It wasn't unbearably uncomfortable, but it wasn't entirely pleasurable. The pleasure came from the way Blaine's lips stretched over his dick.

With each finger that Blaine added, Kurt was sure that he was going to die. There was just as much blinding pleasure as there was a painful stretch. They complimented each other in a way that made the experience unique and amazing.

Kurt didn't realize how pleasurable the situation was until he felt the fingers slipping from inside his body. Once they were gone, he felt empty; utterly empty. "Oh shit!" Blaine shouted, drawing Kurt away from his emptiness.

"What?" That couldn't have been good. _But we've come so far. _"What's wrong?"

"Ummm…well…I…it's been a while. I don't have any condoms." Oh. A million thoughts ran through the dancer's mind. In the end, however, he had only one true concern.

"Have you slept with anyone recently?" He asked hesitantly.

"I haven't slept with anyone since the night I told Jeremiah that I wanted a divorce. I get tested every six months though. I'm always clean."

"So we could go without?"

"If you want to."

"I do." Thank God for small favors. Blaine wasn't sure he could handle the letdown if he went through all of that just to end the night relieving himself in the bathroom. He was already having an internal melt down about the mechanics of what they were doing. _It's just like riding a bicycle except I won't toss him on the front lawn and run in to eat afterwards_. He definitely wouldn't do that. Kurt deserved special and Blaine planned to give him special.

Kurt watched as Blaine coated his palm with lube. _Here we go._ "So ready." Blaine panted as he thoroughly slicked himself. "God, I've wanted to do this for so long." _Me too._

The pharmacist scooted closer to his friend and lined himself up. He balanced himself on the hand that was positioned next to Kurt's head and began to push it. It was a tight squeeze. As he inched forward, he heard the unmistakable sound of a hiss. "Are you okay?" He asked, stopping in his tracks. Kurt's eyes were skewed shut and his fingers were gripping the sheets for dear life. The dancer nodded.

Through gritted teeth, Kurt offered a response. "Please give me a moment."

"Okay."

After what felt like eternity, Kurt's eyes lazily opened. "Okay. Just…please be gentle."

"Always." The pharmacist leaned forward and captured his friend's lips. He allowed their tongues to dance as he slowly inched forward, allowing Kurt's body to receive him bit by bit. "You're so tight." He moaned into his friend's mouth. "So tight and so…God! So everything."

As the elder bottomed out, he realized just how much the night meant to him; he realized how much Kurt meant to him. Kurt was everything. _Literally_. He was the reason Blaine smiled when he woke up in the morning, he was the reason the pharmacist was able to function during the day, and the reason he was able to sleep peacefully at night. It was all Kurt. Everything was Kurt and nothing hurt. _This is how I felt about Jeremiah in the beginning._

Blaine pulled back slowly before creeping back in. It was a slow process. For a while, Kurt seemed uncomfortable. Blaine was dangerously close to calling it quits when the dancer's arms flung around his shoulders, pulling him closer. "Shit. Blaine!" He panted as he wrapped his legs around the elder's waist. They were in business.

They rocked back and forth, Kurt calling out for the elder with every thrust and begging for more with every retraction. "God, Blaine. Please. Fuck me. Fuck me." The pharmacist didn't want to fuck his friend. His first time meant more than a quick fuck with his best friend. It meant building a bond that neither man would ever be able to have with another person. Blaine would forever hold Kurt's virginity. There was no going back on that.

"So tight. How are you so tight?" Blaine's brow was covered with sweat and his body was shaking. Every thrust felt like a natural disaster. His mind and body would be swept away with the tides and Kurt was his savior. Every mew and plea from his mouth acted as the rescue crew that pulled the pharmacist back together so that he could continue.

And continue they did. As the slow, steady sound of the headboard hitting the wall lulled in the background, Kurt dug his heels into the pharmacist's ass, urging his cock deeper and deeper into his anxious hole. "Fuck me. Goddammit! Please. I need you to fuck me." Blaine's resolve broke. He pulled back quickly before slamming into the dancer without hesitation.

Kurt went wild. He scratched and screamed until his face was a furious shade of red. He snaked his hand into the tiny space left by their bodies and began to stroke his dick. He tried to keep up with the painstaking pace Blaine created, but it proved impossible. His coordination was flawed and his insides were churning. He was close.

* * *

Blaine's head flew backwards as he neared his orgasm. He couldn't take it anymore. Kurt was the living embodiment of gorgeous beneath him –hair strewn about; face covered in sweat and flushed to the core- and his body was beginning to react. "I'm gonna cum." He grunted as he thrust forward, causing the young man to wail. "Shit. I'm—uhhh..fuck!" He couldn't finish his sentence. As the words began to fall from his mouth, cum began to flow from his cock; hot, ready, and refusing to wait any longer.

His body shook as he thrust his way through his orgasm. Once he came down, he looked down at his friend. Blaine quickly realized that Kurt was nearing his own orgasm. His face was contorted and the muscles in his chest were flexing. _Holy Bruce Banner._ "I…I…" Kurt stuttered as he stroked faster.

Blaine placed his hand over Kurt's and assisted him to his finish. The two stroked eagerly; awaiting the arrival. It didn't take long. Only moment after Blaine's completion, Kurt's body arched off the bed and he let out an animalistic cry that sounded quite similar to 'Blaine'.

"Fuck. Fuck." He shouted as he stroked himself; releasing seed over his and the pharmacist's hands. "Shit."

The pair gave his cock a squeeze -hands working in perfect harmony- to make sure they'd drained every drop. Satisfied, Kurt plopped back onto the bed. He was fast asleep moment before Blaine out.

* * *

Hours later, Kurt awoke to a dark room. It wasn't his room. He tried to roll over, but there was something in his way. As he ran his hand over the object, he realized that it was breathing. Like the lyrics to an old song, the evening came flooding back to him. He tried to fight the tears that welled in his eyes as the events played in his mind. _What did I do?_ He slept with Blaine. After he spent so much time pushing him away out of fear of falling in love and being stuck in Lima, he slept with Blaine.

The moment the pharmacist spoke to him during their first meeting, Kurt knew he had to proceed with caution. He didn't want anyone to tie him down. He didn't want a reason to stay. The first twinkle of Blaine's eyes caused the caution sign in Kurt's head to light up. He knew from the start that Blaine would be the reason that he stayed. He knew if he let Blaine in, the pharmacist would be the reason he stayed; the reason he gave up on his dreams and never got out. So, he turned him down.

On whim, however, Kurt played with fire. He wasn't able to bear the sight of the elder being crucified by his ex-husband and he stepped onto the ledge. Over the past few months, they teetered; swaying back and forth between what couldn't be and what seemed like a distinct possibility. Then they jumped. They tumbled straight off the cliff into Blaine's bed. Now, Kurt couldn't go. He was hooked and he couldn't leave. _I'm never getting out of Lima._

_**If you ever leave me, baby,  
Leave some morphine at my door  
'Cause it would take a whole lot of medication  
To realize what we used to have,  
We don't have it anymore.**_

The hushed song flowed from Kurt's mouth as a plea. If he couldn't leave Lima, he hoped that Blaine couldn't leave him. Insecurites raced through his mind as he sang. _I don't even know how he feels. What if he doesn't want me to stay? What if he made a mistake? What if he still loves Jeremiah?_ Each one hurt more than the last. Whether Blaine reciprocated his feelings or not, things in Kurt's life would never be the same. If Blaine did love him, then the dancer would be forced to endure a life in Lima –_I doubt he'll want to move_- if Blaine didn't, then Kurt doubted he would be able to move on. He would be reduced to a shadow of his former self; forced into a life of dancing at the club. His pride and his heart would be too shattered to move on.

_**Cause there'll be no sunlight  
If I lose you, baby  
There'll be no clear skies  
If I lose you, baby  
Just like the clouds  
My eyes will do the same, if you walk away  
Everyday it'll rain, rain, ra-a-a-ain**_

Kurt tried not to think of the reaction to his sudden change of heart. Rachel would be furious. After her parents passed, the girl became a bitter shell of her former self. Gone were her notions of love and forever; only to be replaced by a spinster mentality that caused boys to heed warning. She was cold and troubled. That was the reason she was here and there when it came to Quinn. She loved having people chase her, but she refused to let anyone close enough to break down her walls.

His parents would be disappointed. They told him to never give up, but that's what it felt like he was doing. He was giving up. He was at a fork in the road and he chose the path of least resistance. He chose the path that led him to a simple life with a great man. He chose the path that led him to love. Obviously they'd have to discuss it, but Kurt's mind was made up. He refused to give up on Blaine unless Blaine asked him to. In that case, he would. He would hate it, but he would.

_**But they're just afraid of something they can't understand  
Ooh, but little darlin' watch me change their minds  
Yeah for you I'll try, I'll try, I'll try, I'll try  
I'll pick up these broken pieces 'til I'm bleeding  
If that'll make you mine**_

Kurt turned in Blaine's arms and sang in a hushed voice. He didn't want to wake the elder, but he needed a release. There were so many things running through his mind and he had to get them out. If only Blaine was awake so they could talk. He wanted to talk. He wanted to apologize for refusing to be his friend in the beginning and explain his reasons. He wanted to ask Blaine why he named his dog Doo Wop. He wanted to do so many things but he couldn't. Not that night. He couldn't face the possibility of Blaine not returning his feelings that day. He could, however, get those feelings out. He could sing them out like his mother taught him when he was younger.

_**Cause there'll be no sunlight  
If I lose you, baby  
There'll be no clear skies  
If I lose you, baby  
And just like the clouds  
My eyes will do the same, if you walk away  
Everyday it'll rain, rain, ra-a-a-ain**_

Kurt snuggled into Blaine's chest and closed his eyes. They would discuss it in the morning. He would lay his feelings out and they would see where they went from there. It was all he could do. If Blaine wanted to be with him, then they would work it out; whether it was in Ohio or New York, they would work it out. Kurt refused to let a chance at love and happiness slip through his fingers. _Don't give up on a good thing, Kurt. Weather the storm_. Kurt would weather the storm that swirled around his feelings for

* * *

Blaine tried to keep his breathing even as Kurt sang. He woke the moment the dancer climbed out of bed to use the restroom. Once it was over and Kurt was lulling into a peaceful sleep, Blaine's mind began to race. "I wish I could stay here with you forever." Kurt's garbled as he slid into a peaceful sleep.

The elder nodded. "I wish you could too. I wish you could too." He lay in silence for a moment, making sure Kurt was actually asleep. When the first faint snore sounded from the dancer, Blaine slipped out of bed and, ultimately, out of the room.

* * *

**A/N: I know that ended in a weird spot. Kind of like the Sopranos. Sorry about that. Any ideas on what's going to happen next? Any? Let me know. Reviews make me write faster. They also help me write better. Only you can prevent forest fires. ; )**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: As always, thank you to Windsor for her supernatural beta'ing skills. Bam! The song for his chapter is 'Wanted Dead or Alive' – Bon Jovi. There is only 1 chapter left in this story and I will not be posting a poll for it. From the start, I knew what song I wanted to use for that chapter, so I hope you guys will like it. Thanks to all of you guys for reading and what not. **

**Please feel free to drop me a line on twitter (Britbojangles) or on Tumblr –my ask is never closed- (mcclapyohandzzz). Come see about me. ;)**

* * *

The last time Kurt had the dream was the night after he and Rachel decided to move to New York. He had it whenever things were looking up in his life. It acted as a warning. All that went up had to fall down. The dream kept him grounded; reminding him that life wasn't always perfect. It reminded him of the things he'd lost and that not every day was full of laughter and happiness.

It always started the same; as a memory.

_He was seated in the living room, debating with his father. "Come on, Dad," the teenager whined from the couch, "I really want to go with you guys. I can even help Mr. and Mr. Berry pick out Rachel's gift. Please." _

_Burt shook his head, completely unaffected by his son's pleas. "I don't think so, kiddo. Hiram, Leroy, and I already decided that we're going alone. You tagging along is a big, fat no go." Kurt huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. He was being childish, but he didn't care. He wanted to go shopping with his dad and the Berrys. That wasn't too much to ask in his opinion. _

"_Fine. Just go then. I'll just stay here in the big, cold, lonely house and watch television. I'll be fine." Burt chuckled and kissed his son on the forehead. _

"_You do that, kid. Why don't you call Rachel over? You guys could have a makeup party or whatever." Burt was trying, he really was. Sometimes, however, he took it to extremes. He often mistook Kurt's demeanor as a sign that he liked all things feminine and flamboyant. The teenager glared at his father. Whoops. _

"_Dad!" Kurt groaned. "I don't like make up. I'm still a-"_

"_I know, Kurt. I'm sorry. My mistake. Please forgive me. It won't happen again…." Burt squinted and tried to remember the rest of his apology. "Did I forget anything?" _

"_Yes, son, you can come shopping with us." Kurt supplied. Burt shook his head.  
_

"_Not a chance in Hell? How am I supposed to get your Christmas present if you're with me?"_

"_I already know what you're getting me, so it doesn't matter." Kurt shot his father a challenging look. He was getting the boots that he'd been asking for since September. He already knew. His father's internet browser history told him so. _

_Burt chuckled. "No I'm not. I'm not spending $300 on a pair of shoes for my teenager. With graduation in a few months and college coming up, I'm tapped out, kid. I'm getting you an iTunes card thing and a fruit cake." Burt held his arms out and offered his son a sarcastic, over enthusiastic smile. "Merry Christmas, son!" _

_Kurt rolled his eyes and slunk back on the couch. He was throwing in the towel. The only person he knew that was more hardheaded than himself, was his father. Burt Hummel was like a mountain range in the middle of a hurricane, he wouldn't budge. "Fine, Dad. I'll just stay here and wallow in my sadness. Maybe I'll call Rachel and make her feel self-conscious about her freakishly large reindeer sweater collection." _

_His father shook his head, not hiding the smirk on his face, as he often did when his son was about to go to battle verbally. While most people saw his son as weak, Burt knew that that was untrue. Kurt showed strength in other ways. Sometimes his bark was worse than his bite and that was enough to make even the biggest of bullies run for the hills. "Just don't make her cry. Okay, son?" Kurt nodded as he watched his father pull on his winter coat. _

"_I'll do my best." Kurt stood from the couch and walked towards his father. He fixed the collar on his jacket before allowing the man to pull him into a tight hug. _

"_That's all I ask." Burt planted a kiss in his son's hair before pulling back. "We'll be back in a few hours."_

_Kurt nodded. Maybe he would call Rachel over. "Love you, Dad."_

_Burt smiled just before walking out the front door. "Love you more, Kurt." _

* * *

Kurt tossed and turned in the giant bed as the dream continued.

"_You're not ugly, Rachel. Why do you insist on….." Kurt's frustration got the best of him. Rachel's clothes were awful. "I…you know I'm not into stereotypes but…you have two gay dads and I'm just….I'm so shocked that they let you walk out of the house in….that." He scrunched his nose as he motioned to the atrocity she was wearing. _

"_Say what you want, Kurt," Rachel shot him an uninterested look, "my dads appreciate the look." _

_Kurt scoffed. "Why because they know that it'll take one hell of a man to deflower all of that and guys in Ohio aren't up for the task?" His friend punched him in the shoulder despite trying her hardest to hold back her laughter. This was what they did. They settled into a back and forth game of wits. Their battle field was usually one of their two bedrooms and their weapon of choice was words. _

"_Like you're one to talk. The closest you've been to a deflowering is getting molested by Karofsky in the boy's locker room last year." Kurt tensed at her words. That was a low blow. Instantly, Rachel realized her mistake. "I'm sorry, Kurt. That wasn't funny. I…I….so your dad is getting you the boots?" _

_A smile spread across Kurt's face. With Rachel as his only real friend, he was willing to forgive her without a fight…this time. "He says he's not, but I know he is. I've already started mapping outfits to go with them." _

_His best friend nodded enthusiastically. She would never admit watching the spectacle that was Kurt choosing outfits, but she did. It was like watching a giant train wreck where nobody died and everything ended up okay. "I wish you didn't wear such big shoes. The boots are really cute and I'd love to-"_

_She was cut off by the sound of her friend's laughter. "You know what they say about guys with big feet right?" He chuckled. Just as Rachel was about to answer, the doorbell rang. Kurt crossed the room quickly and looked through the peephole. "It's….the police?" It was a question because he wasn't sure why they were at his doorstep. _

"_Open it. If you don't, they'll bust down the door. I saw it on Law and Order once." Kurt rolled his eyes and opened the door. _

"_Can I help you?" He asked with a smile on his face. It was obviously a mistake. They didn't mean to be at his door, they probably had the wrong address. _

_The officers looked at one another and then back to the boy. "We're looking for Kurt Hummel, does he live here?" One officer asked. Kurt smiled and pointed to himself. The larger officer, gave him a one over before nodding. "Ummm…okay. Kurt do you mind if we come inside. We'd like to speak with you." _

_The young man's eyebrows furrowed. He stepped aside regardless. What do they want with me? "I have company," he began as he closed the front door, "should I ask her to leave? Am I in trouble? I didn't do anything." His nerves got the best of him and he was starting to shake. _

"_You're not in trouble, Kurt. We just need to speak with you." The smaller officer replied. "Who is your friend?" _

"_A girl from my school. Rachel Berry." The officers looked at one another once again. They were having a conversation with their eyes. Kurt wasn't sure what the conversation was about but he knew it wasn't a good one. _

_Officer Hulk Hogan, the name Kurt gave to the larger man, smiled and asked Kurt to take him to Rachel. Kurt did as asked, leading the officer through the house to his friend. Rachel was just as shocked as her friend that the police wanted to speak with her. "We're going to let them speak and you and I are going to go into another room and speak. Is that okay, Kurt?" Hesitantly, Kurt nodded. Later once everything was said and done, he wished he hadn't nodded. He wished he'd said no and stayed with Rachel. _

_The smaller policeman, Officer Randall as he introduced himself, fidgeted on the couch as Kurt curled himself into his father's recliner. "Kurt, would you like to get something to drink before we start?" The young man shook his head. What he wanted to do was call his father and make him rush home so that he didn't have to speak to the officer alone. He didn't though. He was legally an adult, thus capable of speaking with the police alone. "Alright. Ummm…"_

"_Are you sure I'm not in trouble? I feel like you're just nervous to tell me. Like I did something that you know that I wouldn't have known I was doing wrong and you have to be the jerk that takes me to jail or whatever." Officer Randall shook his head at Kurt's ramblings. He wished it was that simple. _

_The officer scooted to the edge of the couch and looked Kurt in the eyes. _It's the hardest part of my job._ "Kurt…I'm sorry." The high school senior felt his heartbeat quicken at the words. "There was….an accident….on 117 and….your dad…." Kurt couldn't hear anything else the officer said. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he couldn't function. The room, the house, and the officer disappeared. _

_Kurt was lost in a world of gray and shadows; only the sound of the beating of his heart offered any semblance to the real world._

_**And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst.**_

_The young man closed his eyes and willed the sound to stop. It was painfully loud. When he opened them again, he was on a highway. It was nearly abandoned, with the exception of Mr. Hiram's silver Mercedes. Quickly, Kurt ran towards the car, bare feet smacking the pavement as he jogged the distance. _

_He gasped as he looked inside the car. Usually, when Kurt looked into the car, he saw his father seated behind Mr. Leroy nodding his head to a tune that Kurt couldn't hear over the sound of his own heart. This time was different. Neither Hiram nor Leroy were in the front seat and Burt wasn't in the backseat. It was Blaine. He was laughing and smiling to himself in a way that made Kurt want to laugh and smile as well. "Blaine!" He shouted as he beat on the driver's side window. "Open the door, Blaine." _

_Kurt jiggled the handle in an attempt to open the door. It was locked. "Blaine!" After what felt like an eternity, Blaine finally looked at him, offering him a sweet smile; the same sweet smile that Kurt fell in love with. "Blaine! Open the door, you have to get out! Blaine!" _

_He received a wave in return. Just like his father, Blaine couldn't hear him. _

* * *

"Blaine! Blaine!" Kurt shrieked as he rolled around the bed. "Open the door! Please!" In one motion, Kurt rolled over and out of bed. Luckily, the pillows that he knocked off the bed caught his fall, protecting him from the unforgiving hardwood floor. The dancer rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and looked around the room. Blaine was nowhere in sight.

Quickly, the dancer threw on a pair of sweat pants and a t shirt –too small since he'd borrowed them from the pharmacist- and headed out of the room. The tiny house was a mess. Solo cups and empty bottles of alcohol lined every surface. "Blaine." He shouted as he strode through the house. The only response he received was the low hum of the refrigerator and the tick of the giant clock that hung in the living room.

Kurt made his way towards the front window to see if the pharmacist's car was there. As he neared the window, he noticed a piece of paper taped to the shade of a lamp.

**B, **

**We were going to stick around and cheer you on but, the slow, sweet sounds of the bed creaking was the sound of sweet, passionate love making. We headed out. We put our numbers in your phone. Call us. **

**Warblers out!**

Kurt smiled at the note -Blaine had great friends- before continuing his journey to the window. His heart sank when Blaine's Prius wasn't outside. _Where is he?_ The dancer's mind raced as he darted up the stairs to grab his phone. He pulled up Blaine's number and pressed send.

"_You've reached Blaine and Doo Wop, leave us a message."_

With a growl, Kurt hung up and tried again.

"_You've reached Blaine and Doo Wop, leave us a message."_

"_You've reached Blaine and Doo Wop, leave us a message."_

"_You've reached Blaine and Doo Wop, leave us a message."_

Logic meant nothing when he'd woken up alone and without a way to reach the man that he gave everything to. Without hesitation, Kurt grabbed his clothes, leaving Blaine's sweats and shirt strewn around the house, and headed towards his truck. _I just want to go home._

* * *

Blaine sat on his couch that night going over what Kurt said just before the dancer fell asleep. He wanted the words to be true, but he knew they weren't. Kurt wasn't going to give up everything to stay in Lima with him and Blaine wasn't going to ask him to. He knew what it felt like to give up everything for the man he loved.

Once upon a time, Blaine had dreams; real dreams. He wanted to be a teacher. He wanted to teach underprivileged children on the home front and abroad. He wanted to help and teach. He gave that up for Jeremiah though. His ex-husband was just as high maintenance as he was broke and he needed someone to take care of him. Blaine couldn't do that on an underprivileged teacher's salary. He needed to make more money for himself and, most importantly, for Jeremiah. So, he changed his major midway through his freshman year and never looked back. He didn't want that for Kurt.

He wanted Kurt to open his wings and soar out of Lima, out of Ohio, to a place that would welcome him with open arms. There was a stage, somewhere in New York that would open their arms for the dancer. Lima wouldn't offer that same hospitality. So, he wanted Kurt to go. He wanted his best friend to step out into a world that would love and accept him for who he was. Kurt deserved that after everything he'd been through.

Six A.M. rolled around and Blaine was still seated on the couch. He hated it. He felt like he couldn't think. As much as he wanted Kurt to go, he wanted him to stay. He wanted there to be a prospect for them in the future. He could easily imagine them sitting in the garden reading _Vogue_ and playing footsies under the table. He wanted that; needed that. More than slow games of footsies beneath the table and lazy nights of making love before cuddling up with the latest addition of _Country Living,_ Blaine needed Kurt to be happy. _I don't think he can do that here. _

Think. That's what Blaine needed to do. As quietly as possible, he tip toed into his bedroom and pulled on jeans and a shirt. With one last yearning look towards Kurt, he walked out, closing the door behind him. "Doo Wop," he whispered, "where are you buddy?" The dog came trotting around the corner a moment later. "Hey, buddy. Are you up for a walk?" Doo Wop let out a loud bark, startling the pharmacist. "Shhh…we don't want to wake Kurt."

Blaine slid his feet into a pair of old sneakers and grabbed Doo Wop's leash and his car keys. A walk would do them both some good. His baby would get out of the house for a while and Blaine would have time to think.

* * *

Somehow, their walk led them to the pharmacy. It was a little after eight, so the store wasn't open yet. Quinn's car was there, however. Blaine quickly hopped out of the car, taking Doo Wop with him. Quinn could give him advice. Despite years of bad decisions, Quinn's suggestions and pieces of advice always led him in the right direction.

Blaine used his key to unlock the front doors. Once he'd stepped inside, he relocked the door and made a beeline for the pharmacy counter. "Quinn!" He shouted through the aisles. "It's Blaine. I need to talk."

Quinn popped seemingly out of nowhere. "Blaine. What are you doing here?" She asked as she made her way towards her station. "You don't work today." Despite her friend's presence, Quinn continued to work.

What he said next caused her to look up from her work and take in her friend's appearance. "I did something, Quinn." He stood awkwardly as his friend took in his appearance. She noticed his eyes first. They were red from crying or lack of sleep; possibly both. His hair was a jumbled mess of curls that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in days and his clothes were a wrinkled mess.

Quinn put down her work and made her way towards her friend. "Whatever it was, Blaine, it'll be okay."

"You don't get it!" He shouted, causing his dog to jump in his arms. "It's….I slept with Kurt." _So what's the problem?_ Quinn knew Blaine liked the dancer. He wore his heart on his sleeve and was as open as a book. "It was beautiful. He just…let me have everything…literally."

"Okay? Did you not want to have sex with Kurt?"

"Of course I did. I want everything with Kurt and that's the problem." His hazel eyes swam in a sea of tears.

"So…?"

"I can't have everything with Kurt. He….I can't let him do what I did. I can't let him give up things to stay here with me. He said that, ya know. Right before he fell asleep last night, he said he wanted to stay here with me forever. I can't do that to him; not like Jeremiah did to me."

A proud smile spread across Quinn's face. Blaine was a far better man than his ex-husband could have dreamed of being. "So don't let him stay. Make him go."

"I want to but-" Quinn held up her hand, causing her friend's mouth to snap shut.

"And go with him. Even if you don't believe it, Blaine, you're bigger than Lima too." It was an option he hadn't considered. Well, that was a lie. He had considered it, but he assumed it was too soon to make snap decisions. His friend noticed the contemplative look on his friend and decided to speak up. "Listen, I know you're running through a million scenarios right now, but listen to me. Kurt really likes you. Santana and I have known for a while. Sometimes, when you two are talking, he has this look in his eyes that we've been trying to describe for months. It's like he's literally living on every word you say. I know it's only been like 13 hours but…13 hours or 13 years, you guys are made for each other. He's the Fran Fine to your Mr. Sheffield. From the first episode, you know they're supposed to be together."

Tears flowed down Blaine's face as the smile on his lips crept towards his eyes. Quinn was right. There was a spark between them that he refused to acknowledge in the beginning. His eyes were on the wrong prize back then. Things were different though. He was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and it was beautiful. Sometimes it was blue with specks of green or gray. Other times it was gray or green with specks of blue. "What should I do?" He asked, expectantly. Quinn took him that far; she might as well lead him the rest of the way.

"Call him. Tell him you went out to grab coffee but you two need to talk. Tell him that you don't want him to stay in Lima but you're willing to go anywhere for him. Make sure he knows that. Kurt's lost before, so he's going to be hesitant. He'll probably be scared that you're not serious or that you two will fall apart. Don't let him believe that for a second. Make sure he knows that you care…that you love him."

Love; so complicated, yet so simple. Four letters that could make or break an entire country. Four letters that broke and made Blaine Anderson. He'd loved and lost, swearing to never love again. Then, a beautiful man lap danced his way into the pharmacist's heart. From the moment Kalvin Climbs put the microphone to his lips, Blaine knew he was a goner. The rest was history.

Blaine dug around in his pocket for his phone. Quinn was right, he needed to call Kurt. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be calling Kurt anytime soon. "Shit. My battery is dead."

"Well, go get coffee anyways and then head home. It's not like he'll think you ditched him. It's your house after all. No one runs away from their own house." If only they knew how wrong they were.

* * *

"…and I tried to call him, Rachel but…his phone was off or he wasn't answering. I don't know. I went looking for his car around town, but then I felt crazy and went home. I….I can't stay here. First my dad and now…I gave him everything Rachel. I…just…" Kurt did his best to calm his nerves. He had a show in less than an hour but his head was elsewhere. He and Blaine hadn't been in contact all day and it hurt. His first time wasn't supposed to be with a guy that wouldn't be there in the morning. It was supposed to be with a guy that would hold him through his nightmares and kiss him before they'd had a chance to brush their teeth. He thought Blaine was that guy. He was obviously wrong and that made him angry. Life wasn't supposed to hurt that much. _It's not fair._

On top of his hurt and anger, Rachel was irritating him. It was the perfect combination for a stage disaster. "I told you not to get too close to him. You saw how I did things. I kind of liked Quinn but I kept her at bay. Now I'm in New York and you're still in Lima. You need to get on the next thing smoking and forget about Blaine. There will be millions of guys, way better than Blaine once you get to New York. Leave Ohio in Ohio."

Kurt wanted his friend to be right. He wanted to believe that there would be guys in New York that made Blaine look like the world's biggest jerk. He couldn't though. Despite his feelings towards the man in that moment, he felt like there wasn't a guy on Earth that would ever compare to Blaine; the same Blaine that let him down. "I don't want to wait another month to come out there, Rachel. I bought a train ticket yesterday. I'll be there Sunday morning."

His friend squealed into the phone. "Great. Our apartment is all set up; it's just waiting for you to decorate it. I've also been scoping out possible schools and places for us to work. This is going to be great."

"Yeah." The old friends said their goodbyes and Kurt continued to get ready for his show. He'd already advised Will and the rest of group that he was leaving and that he wouldn't return. While they were all sad to see him leave, they were excited to see him go. Everyone knew that Kurt and Rachel belonged in the Big Apple. _Just one more show and I'm gone. I won't have to see Blaine again and I'll be done with this town. _

* * *

Blaine found himself with a front row seat at the club that night. He was sorely disappointed when he got home with two cups of coffee to find that he had no one to share them with. He was even more disappointed when he tried to get in touch with Kurt but found that he was unable to. Kurt was harder to track down than a C.I.A. agent.

So, after hours of searching, he decided to try the club. He spoke with a few waitresses on the way in, who told him Kurt was working a six o clock show. So, Blaine ordered a drink and made himself comfortable in the front row. He had two hours to kill until Kurt danced but it was worth the wait.

"I want everyone in the room to get on their feet for Kalvin Climbs." The MC shouted into his microphone. Blaine, along with the rest of the room, stood in anticipation for the young dancer. "Tonight will be his last night with us, so make him feel loved." _What? Last night? What the hell?_

Blaine's mind went haywire as he tried to make sense of the announcement. _Kurt wouldn't just up and leave. Maybe I'm thinking too much into this. Maybe he is just leaving the club. He wouldn't up and leave Lima without telling me. Right? _

He didn't have time to come to an actual conclusion because the music was starting. Along with the rest of the room, Blaine took his seat and watched the stage eagerly. He and Kurt could discuss it after the show.

_**It's all the same, only the names will change  
Every day it seems we're wasting away  
Another place where the faces are so cold  
I'd drive all night just to get back home**_

Blaine watched eagerly as Kurt made his entrance. Lovely as ever, Kurt slid down the brass pole, spinning as he went. The only clothing he wore was a tiny pair of black briefs, leaving nothing to the imagination. When the pharmacist studied his friend's face, he noticed the cold look of determination spread across it. Something was wrong; very wrong. Kurt was a naturally determined individual, but he only wore that look when he was fighting his emotions. It was as if he was determined not to let them show.

Kurt spun around the pole a few times before letting go and swaying to the beat of the song. He looked magnificent. While the playful glint was gone from his eyes, the teasing nature of the dancer's personality remained.

_**Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days  
And the people I meet always go their separate ways  
Sometimes you tell the day  
By the bottle that you drink  
And times when you're alone all you do is think**_

The lights of the stage danced across Kurt's body as he strutted around, dancing for various groups of customers. Each shoved dollar bills at him, practically begging for the young man to stay. No one wanted Kurt to leave.

As he shimmied his way through various customers, he smiled and offered his apologies. Blaine knew he wasn't sorry. Who would be sorry about leaving Ohio? _I won't be. Not if I get to be with Kurt in New York. _

_**I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride  
I'm wanted dead or alive  
Wanted dead or alive**_

* * *

The dancer worked his way across the front row, taking money and breaking hearts as he went. With every roll of his hips and dance of his belly, he received a plea not to leave. He was going, though. He couldn't stay any longer. Just a few more tables to go.

The dancer crawled towards the second to last table, rolling his hips towards the ground and sending the men and women at the table into a frenzy. "Don't go. You're amazing." Kurt smiled at them and then took their cash. In the end, the club was only about the money he made there. He wasn't in it to make friends –he'd made that mistake before- and he wasn't there to make fans. They weren't the kind of fans he wanted in the long run. The dancer offered them a simple shrug and continued towards his last table. Once he had their money, he would be scott free.

_**I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back  
I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back  
I been everywhere, and I'm standing tall  
I've seen a million faces an I've rocked them all**_

The moment Kurt noticed the lone man sitting at the table, his body stilled. It was Blaine. Kurt felt like he couldn't breathe. Slowly, the music began to fade away and, just like in the dream, he could only hear the sound of his heart beating.

_**But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst.**_

Holding his ears to stop the sound, Kurt dashed off stage. He didn't want to see Blaine. He wanted to leave and never look back. Blaine was the one that hadn't stuck around in the morning and hadn't called later in the day. _You matter, son_. He didn't. For the first time, Kurt felt like his father was wrong. Nothing mattered. He didn't matter. The love that he was willing to share didn't matter. Nothing mattered and everything hurt.

Kurt dashed to his nearly empty vanity and grabbed his clothes. He quickly pulled on his shirt and pants before heading towards the rear exit. He was done.

* * *

Blaine ran out shortly after Kurt left the stage. The audience was in an uproar and the building was a madhouse of shouting and confusion. Kurt had run off stage after seeing him. If that didn't hurt, he didn't know what did. The pharmacist made his way around the rear door –the one Kurt always left through- and waited. His wait didn't last long. Moment later, Kurt came barreling through the door with a giant gym bag hoisted over his shoulder. "Kurt!" The pharmacist shouted.

The dancer closed his eyes and willed the voice to go away. It was the voice that matched the eyes that he saw staring at him in the audience. It was Blaine. It'll always be Blaine. Ignoring the shout, Kurt made his way towards his truck. It was his last day with the vehicle. One of his father's old employees offered to buy the truck if for nothing than sentimental value. Kurt readily agreed and he was set to drop it off first thing in the morning. "Kurt!"

The second shout caught his attention. It was needy and pleading. Against his better judgment, Kurt turned towards the noise. He sighed when he saw the elder running in his direction. "What?" He hissed. He spent all day trying to find Blaine so they could talk and, hours later, Blaine had decided that he was ready. That did not please the younger man.

Blaine didn't speak until he was standing in front of his friend; his lover. "I…you…." The words were jumbled in his head. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to find a way to say it.

"I…you…" Kurt mocked harshly. "I what, Blaine? I waited for you this morning. I sat in your bed and waited for you to come back? Then, I drove around town looking for you like a scorned lover. I cried all afternoon because you wouldn't return my calls. Then, once I've got myself together and I'm ready to accept that you didn't care enough to leave a note or try to contact me, you show up here and decide it's time to talk. Guess what, it's too late. I'm done."

"No…no…just…" If there was ever a time that Blaine needed to be heard, it was then. He'd spent years letting others talk while he listened, but he needed to be heard. If he wasn't, then he would lose Kurt before they had a chance. "Just stop talking. I need to say this."

Kurt reeled back. "You stop talking." He shot back childishly as he pressed a firm finger into Blaine's chest. "You don't get to dictate how this conversation will go. I listened for all those months about how you still loved your ex and how you wanted him back. When I spoke up, you refused to listen to my side of things. So, now you're going to listen while I talk."

"You…you're such a good guy. That's why it was so hard for me to understand why I ended up in your bed alone this morning. Then, I got it." Kurt visibly deflated as he spoke. "You didn't leave because you're not a good guy; you left because I wasn't worth sticking around for, at least not in your eyes. So, I'm going to go. I'm going to pack my things and go to New York. Maybe there I'll find a guy that thinks I'm worth sticking around for."

"No…please don't. Just listen, Kurt." Blaine was begging; pleading. If Kurt would just stop talking, the pharmacist could tell him just how wrong he was. Kurt didn't stop talking though. Most times, Blaine found the brunette's ramblings to be endearing; this was not one of those times.

"I told you I'm done listening. Oh and.." Kurt stopped long enough to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket, "…here's your check back from Christmas. I don't need your money." The dancer crumbled the check in his hand and tossed it on the ground. Before Blaine could speak again, Kurt was jogging towards his car and hopping in.

"But you are good enough to stick around for." The pharmacist whispered as he picked up the crumpled check. Moments later, Kurt's truck screeched out of the parking lot and in the direction of his house, leaving Blaine alone with the crumpled paper that matched his crumpled heart.

* * *

**A/N: The random lines in the story about the heart are from 'The Telltale Heart' by Edgar Allan Poe. **

**I'm a believer in karma. Obviously, the stars were not pleased that I wrote this chapter because they had our payroll company mess my check up. Now I have to spend tomorrow cussing people out over money instead of waiting patiently for Windsor to beta the last chapter. FML. Review though. That'll make me smile. **

**Oh…and…sorry. : /**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Last chapter! *Ugly cries with Windsor* The chapter song is 'I Won't Give Up' by Jason Mraz (Isn't he adorable). Hope you guys like it. Windsor didn't hate it, so I think it'll be okay. Let me know what you think once you've finished. **

* * *

"No entiendo lo que está pasando!" Santana shouted at her friends. She and Quinn received a call hours ago from a very distraught Blaine. "Things were fine yesterday. You were going to that damn party and he had some big party to work. How did you guys go from that to him dancing on your pole?" Through his tears, Blaine explained the situation from start to finish. When he was finished, he looked up towards his friend. "Damn."

"I know." He sobbed. "I messed this up so bad and now he's going to leave. I can't lose him like this. I have to let him know how I feel about him!" The pharmacist ran his hands over his face in an attempt to calm himself down. It was a losing battle from the start.

Santana, ever the inquisitive one, strode across the room and sat on the coffee table in front of her friend. She grabbed his hands away from his face and forced him to look at her. "So let him know how you feel." _If only it was that simple._

"He's leaving for New York. He's done. I hurt him and now he's leaving." The young man sobbed. "My chance is gone." Santana sighed and shook her head.

"Oh my God, Anderson. Really?" She was getting a headache and it was Blaine's fault. "So you're just going to give up? You chased after your douche bag ex-husband for years and now you're giving up? I find that hard to believe!"

"What am I supposed to do?" He shouted. The girl's jumped back at the volume of his voice. Blaine didn't shout. Obviously things were changing. Twice in the past few months, Blaine raised his voice. Things were changing and both girls hoped it was for the best. While they didn't want their friend to run around screaming at people, they wanted him to make his voice heard.

"Tell him how you feel; make him listen!" Santana answered. She was surprised the pharmacist hadn't already come to that conclusion. It was obvious. _You want someone to know you like them, tell them. Duh!_

"But before you do that," Quinn cut in. She crossed the room and sat next to her friend. He immediately curled into her side. "You need to figure out what you want. If he wants to be with you but still wants to go to New York, you need to know how you guys are going to work that out. Because he's going to question that and you need to have an answer."

_Finally, an easy response._ "I've already decided that, whether Kurt and I end up together or not, I'm moving. I'll miss the heck out of you guys, but I don't want to stay here. Someone once told me that I'm also bigger than Lima, so I want to give that a go. I want to see what it's like to get out of this world."

Quinn and Santana shared a smile. "I think he's finally getting it." The Latina whispered. Her blonde friend nodded. _He is. _

Hours later, the friends sat on the couch bouncing ideas off one another. They needed to figure out a way to make Kurt listen to Blaine. "Wait! I have an idea." The pharmacist shouted, popping up from his spot between the two girls. They gave him their undivided attention as he explained his plan. "And for this, I'll need you guys, Sam, Puck, and the Warblers. Are you guys up to help me? I know it's late."

The girls looked at one another before turning to their friend. "We're always up to help you, Blaine." Came Quinn's response.

Santana spoke up next. "Don't forget that." The pharmacist smiled at the girls as he pulled out his phone. He had plans to make; plans that couldn't wait.

* * *

Kurt wiped his eyes for what felt like the millionth time. Packing his things was far more difficult than he'd anticipated. Luckily, he wasn't packing everything. The house was paid for, so some things were able to stay. Maybe he'd come back and live –_probably not_- or, one day, when he was in a better place and the hurt in his heart was a dull thud rather than a painful sting, he'd sell it. For the time being, he packed. Everything that he could use in New York was going, which was still quite a bit.

Three suitcases into his packing, Kurt heard something hit his window. Assuming it was a bird or a bug, the ex-dancer ignored it. He continued to pack until he heard something else hit the window. "What the fuck? It's like 4 am." He groaned. The young man stood from his seat on the floor and walked towards the window. He pulled the large, black curtains back and looked out. There, beneath the streetlights, stood Blaine; dapper as ever in a pair of nice slacks and a cardigan sweater. He was throwing rocks at the window. His graying hair was gelled down, more so than when he went to work, and he was wearing his glasses; glasses that Kurt once told him looked better than his contacts. _There's something about a man in glasses. _

Kurt sighed as he pushed the window open. "What do you want?" He asked with an uninterested tone. "Because I told you that-"

"Stop talking." Blaine shouted up to him. "You had your chance to talk earlier, now it's my turn." The brunette was taken aback by the elder's tone. Blaine wasn't the kind of person to raise his voice –_something everyone knows_- and he wasn't the kind of person of person to tell someone to stop talking. Intrigued, Kurt shut his mouth. _Whatever he has to say, must be important. I guess I can listen for a while. _"Are you going to let me talk?" Blaine shouted up. He sounded more like his usual self.

Kurt nodded and propped his elbows in the window, giving Blaine his full attention. "First, I wanted to apologize for not being there when you woke up." When Kurt began to open his mouth, Blaine shot him a pleading look. "Please don't say anything. Please. I won't have the courage to do this in five minutes." Kurt's mouth snapped shut and, once again, he gave Blaine his undivided attention.

"Like I said, I'm sorry for not being there. It wasn't intentional. I left to clear my mind. Right before you fell asleep; you said you never wanted to leave. I couldn't let you do that, Kurt. I gave up my dreams for a man once and I couldn't let that happen to you. So I took Doo Wop for a walk. It wasn't because I needed to get away from you; it was because I was scared that you'd actually do it. I never want you to give up anything for me, Kurt." The pharmacist walked closer to the house, giving Kurt a better view of him. He looked sad.

"When I got my head straight, I went to get us coffee. I went home so we could talk, but you weren't there. When I tried to call, I realized my phone was dead. I didn't intentionally ignore you. I know I should have charged my phone and called but…I couldn't. I couldn't talk to you over the phone; I had to do it to your face. So, I drove around all day like a stalker looking for you. When it got late, I went to your job. I went there to talk. That's all I wanted. I wanted to let you know how I felt." A choked sob cut the pharmacist off. When he looked up, he saw the tears flowing down Kurt's face.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. I should have let you say that. Instead I yelled at you. I'm just…"

"It's okay. I know you were scared. I am too. But I won't give up on this; I won't give up on us." Blaine turned and motioned to something Kurt couldn't see. A moment later, Quinn, Santana, Puck, Sam, and the guys from the party were all traipsing across his lawn. He watched intently as he motioned to Puck who was holding a guitar. As the young man watched, Blaine's friend began to play and Blaine began to sing.

_**When I look into your eyes  
It's like watching the night sky  
Or a beautiful sunrise  
There's so much they hold  
And just like them old stars  
I see that you've come so far  
To be right where you are  
How old is your soul?**_

A slow smile crept across Kurt's face as the elder man sang to him. Never in his life had he imagined that he'd experience such a romantic moment. It exceeded any and all expectations.

_**I won't give up on us  
Even if the skies get rough  
I'm giving you all my love  
I'm still looking up**_

As their eyes met, they shared an intimate smile; each hoping that the other's smile was a promise for a brighter future; one that involved them being together.

_**And when you're needing your space  
To do some navigating  
I'll be here patiently waiting  
To see what you find**_

_**'Cause even the stars they burn**_  
_**Some even fall to the earth**_  
_**We've got a lot to learn**_  
_**God knows we're worth it**_  
_**No: I won't give up**_

Kurt ran the back of his hand over his eyes, trying to wipe away his tears. Blaine was offering things he didn't expect to find for years. Blaine was offering a future together. He was offering a chance to have someone by his side as he tried to navigate life. That was more than Kurt could have ever asked for.

As the pharmacist continued to sing, his friends joined in. It was amazing to hear them harmonize together. It reminded Kurt of being in his high school's glee club. It offered the nostalgic moment that he needed while packing up his life to move away from home.

_**I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)  
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)  
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)  
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)**_

_**I won't give up on us**_  
_**Even if the skies get rough**_

_**I'm giving you all my love**_

_**I'm still looking up**_

_Sometimes you have to take chances, son. If it doesn't hurt sometimes, then you're not sticking your neck out enough._ Kurt didn't try to stop his tears as Blaine sang the final note. "Kurt, I meant what I said. I won't give up on us. If you'll have me, wherever we end up, I promise to be there whenever I can in the morning. Obviously I'll be working so I might not be able to if you get up to late but I'll try. I'll always try."

Blaine was so busy rambling that he didn't notice that Kurt was no longer perched in the second floor window. "…and I promise that I'll try to bring you coffee every morning. I know you need your coffee and I'll do my best. I mean, unless you get up before I do, then I won't be able to bring you coffee. And I'll do my best to-" His words were cut off by a pair of lips; the softest lips he'd ever felt.

Instinctively, he kissed back. When he pulled back, he was relieved to see Kurt smiling at him, only inches from his face. "You're rambling." The brunette advised as he laced his arms around the elder's neck. A light blush rose in Blaine's cheeks. He was rambling. _In my defense, I'm super freaking nervous right now. _"I won't give up on us either. And I like the idea of you coming to New York with me – if that's what you're offering. I just can't imagine asking you to give up your life here to go there." The pharmacist shook his head adamantly.

"I already made up my mind. I stayed in Lima because it was safe. I think it's time I get out of here. What better place to go than to New York City with the most wonderful man on Earth – a man that I'd like to be my boyfriend."

Kurt tried not to squeal. "Of course I'll be your boyfriend." The two shared another chaste kiss –_we'll be doing a lot of that_. "And I am the most beautiful man in the world." Blaine chuckled and pulled his _boyfriend_ closer, nuzzling his nose into the younger man's neck.

"You are." The elder whispered. He lifted his head slightly, just enough to make eye contact with his boyfriend, and smiled. "I lo-" Before he could get the words out, he heard the strumming of a guitar. What are they doing, we didn't plan on another song.

The men pulled apart a moment later, trying to figure out what was happening. David stepped into the forefront of the group and began to sing. Kurt and Blaine stood back and watched, dumbstruck.

_**Got the body of a goddess  
Got eyes butter pecan brown I see you girl  
Droppin Low  
She Comin Down from the ceiling  
To tha floo  
Yea She Know what she doin  
Yea yea yea  
She doin that right thang  
Yea yea yea yea ea  
I Need to get her over to my crib and do that night thang  
Cause I'm N Luv wit a stripper**_

"Really, guys? Really?" The pharmacist scoffed to no avail. His friends were dancing and singing on the lawn as if it was a concert venue. He felt the shake of Kurt's body as the dancer giggled in his arms. "Come on, guys. That's enough. The song is embarrassing and you might wake the neighbors." Again, the group paid the young man no mind.

_**She poppin she rollin she rollin  
She climbin that pole and  
I'm N Luv with a stripper  
She trippin she playin she playin  
I'm not goin nowhere girl I'm stayin  
I'm N Luv with a stripper**_

Eventually, Kurt's laughter grew to be contagious and Blaine found himself joining in as the group continued. He watched as the Warblers danced with one another and with the other group of friends that Blaine brought to Kurt's house.

Eventually, Blaine turned to his the younger man –his boyfriend- and smiled. "Are you ready for this; a life of being randomly serenaded by a crazy group of people, singing oddly accurate songs that are still a bit offensive? If we're going to be together, you have to be ready for things like this." He asked.

Kurt smiled and leaned in for a chaste kiss, they couldn't seem to get enough of kissing one another. When he pulled back he smiled. "Baby, I was born ready."

* * *

Hours later, when Blaine's friends were gone and Kurt's bags were packed –_Blaine has to put in notice to his job and the leasing company that owns his house, so he'll be a while_- the coupled lay cuddled in Kurt's bed. The sun was beginning to rise but both men were understandably exhausted. "I'm going to sleep for the rest of my life." Kurt yawned as he snuggled closer to his boyfriend.

"Then you'll miss your train." Blaine responded, hugging the younger man closer. Kurt hummed as sleep began to overtake him. The pharmacist watched as his boyfriend slipped in and out of consciousness. He had to say something to let Kurt know he would be there in the morning; something he meant. Something he didn't get a chance to say earlier in the evening. "Hey, Kurt."

"Hmmm…"

"I love you."

He felt Kurt smile into his chest. "Does that mean you'll be here when I wake up?"

The pharmacist chuckled. "Of course."

"Good. Because I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: And that's it folks. Oohhh..you guys got a second song for this chapter 'I'm In Love With A Stripper' by T-Pain. It just felt right.**


End file.
